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LECTURES 


THE  PAEABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 


BY 


EDWARD    N.    KIRK,    D.D. 


NEW  YORK : 

R.     CRAIGHEAD,     PRINTER, 

Caitoii  tUitrtiiiig, 
81,  88  &  85  CENTRE  STREET, 

1857. 


ENTBKEr,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

EDWAKU  N.  KIRK, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  tht 
District  of  Massachiisette. 


PREFACE. 


The  parables  spoken  by  our  Lord  have  always,  and  deservedly, 
attracted  a  peculiar  share  of  attention.  All  the  utterances  of 
him,  who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  are  wonderful.  But  the 
pious  readers  of  the  Scriptures  have  ever  felt  a  peculiar  charm 
in  these  simple  unfoldings  of  the  sublimest  truths. 

Scientific  men  have  labored  to  define  the  parables ;  but 
have  generally  failed,  by  aiming  too  high.  The  popular  notion 
of  a  parable  is,  that  it  is  a  fictitious  narrative,  illustrating  a 
religious  principle,  like  that  of  the  Prodigal  Son.  And  yet 
all  persons  have  admitted  among  the  parables  many  statements 
or  comparisons,  which  in  no  degree  partake  of  the  narrative 
form. 

The  word  Parable  is  employed  in  nearly  fifty  places  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  in  various  specific  senses.  Its  generic 
notion  is  simply  that  of  comparison,  or  similitude.  The 
English  translators  have  rendered  it  by  "  comparison  "  (as  in 
Mark  iv.,  30);  "figure"  (Heb.  ix.,  9);  "proverb"  (Luke  iv., 
23) ;  and  "  parable." 

Regarding  the  parables  then  as  strictly  mere  figures,  more 
or  less  expanded,  and  more  or  less  explained ;  about  one 
hundred  of  them  occur  in  the  discourses  of  our  Lord ;  to  only 
twenty-two  of  which  is  the  name  of  parable  applied  by  the 
sacred  writers. 

Viewed  in  this  light,  it  is  very  interesting  to  contemplate 
them,  first,  as  groups  of  natural  objects ;  then,  as  emblems  of 


IV  PREFACE. 

spiritual  truths.  Thus  brought  together,  they  suggest  many 
impressive  and  valuable  reflections;  preeminently  exhibiting 
the  simplicity  and  grandeur  of  the  Saviour's  teaching.  Viewed 
on  their  natural  side,  they  are  like  that  toy  of  our  childhood, 
the  kite,  which  the  philosopher  employed  for  the  grave  pur- 
poses of  science.  Viewed  on  their  spiritual  side,  they  resemble 
the  electric  light  and  power  of  the  heavens,  which  Franklin 
brought  gently  to  the  earth  by  that  kite. 

These  figures  are  chosen  partly  from  agricultural  or  pas- 
toral life  :  as  the  sower,  the  tares,  the  mustard-seed,  wolves  in 
sheepskins,  sheep  among  wolves,  the  harvest,  the  yoke,  the 
laborers  hired,  the  ploughman,  &c. ;  partly  from  domestic 
objects,  scenes,  interests  and  employments :  the  leaven,  the 
salt,  the  wedding,  &c. ;  from  the  ordinary  feelings  of  men 
concerning  property ;  from  their  feelings  toward  the  unfaith- 
ful ;  from  the  common  estimate  of  kindness ;  and  from  the 
feelings  of  men  concerning  responsibility,  prudence,  ostenta- 
tion, and  erring  children ;  from  fishing  ;  from  nature's  familiar 
objects  ;  from  history ;  from  ordinary  occupations ;  from  Jew- 
ish society  and  its  customs ;  from  popular  belief,  and  popular 
maxims. 

It  is  then  obvious  that  the  range  of  subjects  embraced  in 
these  parables  makes  them  at  once  supremely  important  and 
directly  practical;  and,  if  the  course  of  Lectures  here  pre- 
sented had  aimed  to  be  scientific  rather  than  popular,  it  should 
have  embraced  a  discussion,  more  or  less  extended,  of  every 
subject  figuratively  presented  by  our  Saviour.  It  might  then, 
however,  be  difficult  to  render  a  suflScient  reason  for  present- 
ing in  one  work  that  class  of  subjects,  rather  than  those  which 
he  uttered  in  a  literal  form ;  and  this  course  of  illustrations 
being  necessarily  limited,  the  author  was  guided  in  his  selec- 
tion from  the  whole  group  solely  by  the  peculiar  interest 
which,  from  the  time  they  fell  from  those  sacred  lips,  has 
invested  this  portion  of  these  beautiful  and  impressive  exhibi- 
tions of  religious  truth. 


The  classificatioii  of  them  here  made  is  not  the  only  one 
for  which  substantial  reasons  might  be  given;  but  it  claims  to 
be  just,  so  far  as  it  goes. 

As  it  may  assist  some  student  of  the  sacred  oracles  to  have 
a  list  of  the  subjects  which  the  great  Teacher  has  chosen  to 
represent  in  figurative  forms,  they  are  here  presented  under 
an  arrangement  more  or  less  complete ;  but  which,  it  is  be- 
lieved, will  be  found  by  many  to  be  very  interesting  and 
impressive. 


DOCTRINES. 

FIGDBES. 

TEXTS. 

The  Gospel  sent  from  God 

The  Sower,     . 

Matt.  xiii.  3. 

to  save  man, 

Vindication  of  God's  mercy 

Lost  Silver  and  Sheep,    . 

Luke  XV.  1. 

Christ,  a  sufferer,     . 

Jonah  ;  Broken  bread,    . 

Matt,  xii,  39 ; 
Luke  xxii.  19. 

"      life  and  support  of 

Woman  in  travail,  . 

John  xvi.  21. 

the  Church, 

John  xii.  24. 

Grain  in  ground,     . 

Matt.  xvi.  18 ; 

Rock  ;  Vine,  . 

John  XV.  1. 

"      Saviour, 

Temple  ;  Water ;  Bread, 

John  ii.  19,  iv.  14, 
vi.  35. 

Door ;  Shepherd  ;  Light, 

John  X.  7,  xiii. 

Physician  ;    Serpent      of 

Matt.  ix. ;  John  iii, 

brass. 

The  Resurrection  and  Life, 

John  xi.  25. 

"     in  heaven,     . 

New  wine;  Providing  man- 

Matt. xxvi. ;  Johc 

sions. 

xiv. 

The  Church,  a  blessing,  . 

Light  of  world  ;  Salt, 

Matt.  V. 

"           "       imperfect,   . 

Tares,    .... 

Matt.  xiii. 

"            "       transferred. 

Unfaithful  steward, 

Matt.  xxi. 

"           "       wiU  become 

Mustard  seed. 

Matt,  xiii. 

universal. 

Satan  dispossessed,  . 

Strong  man  ai-med, 

Matt.  xii. 

Man  a  sinner. 

The  Sick, 

Matt.  ix. 

The  Gosvel    rejected   by 

The  Two  Sons, 

Matt,  xxi 

impenitence,     unbelief, 

Two  Masters, 

Matt.  vi. 

compromise,  and  super- 

Seed on  bad  ground. 

Matt,  xiii 

ficial  faith, 

The  Ploughman,     . 

Luke  ix. 

Convictions  lost, 

The  Unclean  Spirit, 

Matt.  xii. 

Invitations  rejected, 

The  Great  Supper,  . 

Luke  xiv. 

Hypocrisy,  Ostentation,    . 

Sounding  the  trampet,     . 

Matt.  vi. 

"        Censoriousness, 

Mote    and   Beam  ;    Gnat 

Matt,  vii.,  xxiii. 

"        Scrupulousness, 

and  Camel ;  Cup   and 
Platter, 

VI 


PREFACE. 


DOCTBINES. 

FiaUSES. 

TBXTS. 

Hypocrisy,  False  and  inju- 

Whited Tomb;   Covered 

Matt,  xxiii 

rious  preten- 

Grave, 

sions, 

False  teachers, 

Wolves     in     sheepskins ; 
Blind  leaders. 

Matt,  vii.,  XV. 

Receiving  the  Gospel, 

Seed  in  good  ground, 

Matt.  xiii. 

"         great  and  dif- 

New birth  ;  Strait  gate. 

John  iii.,  Luke  xiii 

ficult  change. 

"        forethought  ex- 

Laying    up     treasures ; 

Matt,  vi.,  vii 

ercised, 

Builders, 

((                 11 

Housekeeper  forewarned. 

Luke  xii. 

t(                      u 

King  going  to  war,  &c. ; 
Unjust  Steward, 

Luke  xiv.,  xvi. 

"         prizing  the  sal- 

The hidden  treasure ;  the 

Matt.  xiii. 

vation  of  God, 

Pearl, 

"         returning  home 

The  Lost  Son, 

Luke  XV. 

"         relations  of  be- 

The family  of  Christ,       . 

Matt.  xii. 

liever  to  Christ 

•J,.       the    service   of 

The  Yoke,      . 

Matt.  xi. 

Christ  easy. 

"         piety  progres- 

The   Leaven  ;    Growing 

Matt,  xiii.,   Mark 

sive, 

plant, 

iv. 

Branches  of  piety : 

humility. 

The  Hired  Laborers, 

Luke  xvii. 

((               t( 

The      Humble      Guest ; 

Luke  xiv.,  xviii. 

Pharisee  and  PubHcau, 

love,  self-denial,  . 

Two  Debtors ;   Offending 
Hand, 

Luke  vii..  Matt,  vi 

forgiveness,  simplicity, 

Relentless   Servant  ;    the 
Sound  Eye, 

Matt,  xviii.,  vi. 

kindness,     . 

Good  Samaritan ;  Benev- 
olent Host, 

Luke  X.,  xiv. 

trust  in  Providence, 

Birds  and  Lilies,     . 

Matt.  vi. 

prayer  importunate,     . 

The  Friend ;  the  Impor- 
tunate Widow, 

Luke  xi.,  xviii. 

prudence  and  good  sense, 

The  Pearls;  New  Cloth 
and  Wine, 

Matt,  vii.,  ix. 

«                       u            u 

The  Children  of  the  Bride- 
chamber, 

t(                                (C 

Confessors  and  martyrs,  . 

Sheep  among  Wolves ;  the 
Husbandman, 

Matt,  ix.,  xxii. 

True  ministers  wanted,    . 

Instructed  Scribe  ;    Har- 
vest, 

Matt.  X.,  xiii. 

Principles  of  action. 

The  Tree  recognized, 

Luke  vi. 

Actions  betray  character. 

Good  and  Bad  Tree, 

Matt.  vii. 

Signs  of  the  times,  . 

The  Tree  ;  the  Lightning, 

Matt.  xxiv. 

World  unreasonable, 

Children  in  Market-place, 

Matt.  xi. 

PREFACE. 


vu 


DOCTEENES. 

MGUEES, 

TEXTS. 

Death  ends  probation, 

Dives  and  Lazarus ;  Rich 
Fool, 

Luke  xri.,  xii. 

Judgment,  certainty, 

Axe  at  root ;  Deluge, 

Matt,  iii.,  xdv. 

"               "       .         . 

Servant  rioting, 

Matt.  xxiv. 

"         day  of  discrim- 

Drag-net;      Slieep     and 

Matt,  xiii.,  xxv. 

ination, 

Goats, 

((                 (( 

The  Fan  ;  Wedding  Gar- 
ment, 

Matt,  iii.,  xxii. 

"                 " 

The  Ten  Virgins,   . 

Matt.  xxv. 

"     dreadful  account 

The  Barren  Figtree, 

Luke  xiii. 

(I            ((             (t 

The  Buried  Talent, 

Matt.  xxv. 

Retribution  ;    or   rewards 

The  Absent  King,  . 

Luke  xix. 

proportioned  to  merit, 

Probably  the  majority  of  those  who  read  these  pages, 
would  prefer  the  practical  discussion  of  these  religious  topics 
to  a  critical  or  formal  statement  of  the  meaning  of  words  in 
the  texts  on  which  the  subjects  are  found.  As,  however, 
much  diversity  of  opinion  exists  about  the  extent  to  which 
the  resemblance  holds  in  each  parable  between  the  natural 
and  the  spiritual,  it  may  gratify  some  to  know  the  views  of 
one  who  has  made  them  a  study.  To  meet  this  desire,  a  table 
is  here  drawn  out,  which  expresses  the  author's  opinions  of 
the  degree  of  resemblance  there  is  between  the  details  of  each 
symbol  and  the  subject  it  symbolizes,  and  at  what  point  in 
each  case  the  resemblance  ceases. 

So  far  as  the  following  explanation  is  just,  it  shows  the 
principles  on  which  the  parables  are  constructed  to  be  these : 

1.  Natural  objects  and  the  events  of  history  contain  the 
types  of  spiritual  things  ; 

2.  The  resemblance  between  them  is  more  or  less  limited 
in  every  case ; 

3.  Sometimes  natural  objects  and  human  character  illus- 
trate divine  things  indirectly,  inversely,  or  by  contrast. 

To  apply  these  principles  to  the  interpretation  of  each 


Tin  PREFACE. 

parable  furnislies  a  severe  but  profitable  occupation  to  the 
human  mind,  and  leaves  room  for  difierences  of  opinion  among 
interpreters. 

II.    TABLE. 
Tahle  of  the  Parables  here  discussed;  shcndng  the  siffnificanci/  of  their  dxtcMs. 


THE  PARABLE. 

LECTITEE. 

TYPE. 

ANTITYPE. 

The  Sower,    . 

in.,  XIV., 

The  sower,    . 

Christ. 

Matt.  xiii.  3-8,  and 

XV..  XVI., 

The  field,      . 

The  world. 

18-23. 

XIX. 

The  parts  of  it,      . 

The  hearts  of  men. 

The  seed. 

The  gospel. 

The  fruit,       . 

Holiness  or  obedience. 

The  Lost  Sheep 

IIL   . 

Sheep  and  silver. 

Soul  of  man  in  sin. 

and 

Shepherd  and  woman. 

God. 

The  Lost  Silvek, 

Going  (v.  4)  and  sweep- 

System of  grace. 

Luke  XV.  1-10. 

ing  (V.  8). 

Calling  neighbors, 

All  good  beings  rejoicing 

The  Vine, 

IV.    . 

The  vine, 

Christ. 

John  XV.  1-8. 

The  husbandman. 

The  Father. 

The  branches. 

Professed  disciples. 

Fruit  bearing  branches. 

True  believers. 

Unfruitful  branches,     . 

False  professors 

The  Leaven,  . 

V.     . 

The  meal. 

The  heart 

Matt  xiii.  83. 

The  woman, . 

The  Holy  Spirit 

The  leaven,   . 

His  influences. 

Growing  Seed, 

VL   .       . 

The  seed,       . 

Religious  principles. 

Mark  Iv.  26-29. 

The  husbandman, 

(Not  symbolic;  or,  but 
partially.) 

The  harvest. 

Death. 

The  Debtors, 

vn, .     . 

The  creditor, 

Christ 

Luke  vii.  41-60. 

The  servants  most  In- 

Those   who    have    the 

debted. 

deepest  sense  of  their 
guilt. 
Those  who  have    light 

The  least  indebted, 

estimate  of  their  guilt 

The  Laborers, 

VI IL 

The  householder,  . 

Christ 

Matt.  XX.  1-16. 

The  laborers. 

Believers. 

Day 

Life-time. 

Different  hours  of  the 

Those  differences  in  the 

day. 

religious  lives  of  men 
which  tempt  some  to 
pride. 

Evening, 

Death,  or  peculiar  tiniea 
of  discovering  the  free- 
ness  of  grace. 

Murmuring,  . 

Pride  and  jealousy  worb 
ing  in  true  believers. 

The  Pharisee  and 

IX.   .       . 

The  Pharisee, 

Self-righteous  men. 

Publican. 

The  Publican, 

Humble  men. 

Luko  xviii.  9-14. 

The  Widow,  . 

X     , 

The  widow,  . 

Praying  persons. 

Luke  xviii.  1-8. 

The  judge,     . 

(Anti-symbolical.) 

The  Good  Samari- 

XL  . 

The  traveller. 

Man. 

tan. 

The  thieves,  . 

The  trials  of  life. 

Luke  X.  25-37. 

Priest  and  Levlte, 

Selfish  formalists. 

Samaritan, 

The  true  disciples. 

PREFACE. 


IX 


THE  PARABLE. 

LECTURE. 

TYPE. 

ANTlTYPt 

The  Relentless 

XIL  . 

The  king. 

God. 

Servant, 

The  servants. 

Men. 

Matt,  xviii.  21-85. 

The  reckoning,     . 

Daily  awakening  of  con- 
science. 

Servant  largely  indebted 

All  men  viewed  as  hav- 
ing offended  God. 

Inability  to  pay,   . 

No  man  can  pay  debt  of 
past  sins. 

The  command  to  be  sold, 

God's  justice  executed  or 
threatened. 

The  entreaty, 

Prayer  for  forgiveness. 

The  free   remission  of 

Forgiveness  is  free. 

the  debt. 

The  second  servant,      . 

Man  as  injuring  man. 

The  violent  demand,    . 

Revenge. 

The  suppliant. 

Man  confessing  his  wrong 
to  his  fellow-man. 

The  refusal,  . 

Pride  and  revenge. 

The  report  to  the  king. 

God's  knowledge  of  our 
actions. 

The  king's  reply,  . 

God's  treatment  of  re- 
venge. 

PhE   UlTFAITHrUL 

XIII. 

The    rich    man ;     the 

(These  are  not  symboli- 

Steward, 

steward;  the  accusa- 

cal, or  very  partially ; 
but  necessary  to  make 

Luke  xvi.  1-13. 

tion  ;     the    wasting ; 

the  reckoning  and  the 

the  story  complete.) 

sentence ;    the    solil- 

oquy. 
The  course  taken,  vs.  5, 

Christian    prudence,    or 

6  and  7, 

forethought  in  the  usa 
of  money. 

The  commendation,  v.  8, 

Prudence  is  good. 

The  first  inference,  v.  8, 

We  see  the  visible,  but 
forget  the  invisible  too 
readily. 

Forethought  in  the  use 

The  application,  v.  9,    . 

of  money  commended. 

Tlie  second    Inference, 

Fidelity   to  God  in   the 

v.  10, 

use  of  property  a  test 
of  character. 

The  third  and  fourth  in- 

Unfaithfulness here  shuts 

ferences,  vs.  11  &  12, 

us  out  from  trusts  here- 
after. 

The  fifth  inference,  v.  13, 

Fidelity  to  God  incom- 
patible witli  avarice  or 
prodigality. 

The  Two  Sons, 

XVIL        . 

The  father,    . 

God. 

Matt.  xxi.  28-82. 

The  first  sou. 

Immoral  persons  who  re- 
pent 

The  second  son,    . 

Pharisees  who  do  not 
re[)ent. 

The  Great  Supper, 

xvin.    . 

The  householder,  . 

Christ. 

Luke  xiv.  16-24. 

The  supper,  . 

Salvation. 

The  first  invited,  . 

Jews  "  bidden  "  or  noti- 
fied bv  prophets,  now 
invited  by  Christ. 

Invitation, 

Preaching,  or  other  mode 
of  ofifering  salvation. 

Excusing, 

Unbelief  justifying  itself. 

Report  to  the  lord. 

God's  omniscience. 

Second  invitation. 

To  the  Gentiles. 

Streets  and  lanes,  . 

Inhabitants  of  Palestin* 
and  vicinity. 

THE  PARABLE. 


Lost  Son  Keturned, 

Luke  XV.  11-32. 
Light  of  theWoeld, 

Matt.  V.  14. 
The  Tares  in  the 
Wheat, 
Matt    siil.    24-30, 
3(M8. 


The  VtNEYARD, 

Matt.  sxi.  83-44. 


XX.  . 
XXI. 
XXIL 


XXIIL 


The  Mustard  Seed, 
Matt.  xiii.  31-32. 

The  Rich  Man  and 

the  Beggar, 

Luke  xvi.  19-31. 


The  Drag-net, 
Matt  xiii.  47-50, 

The  Absent  King, 
Luke  xix.  11-27. 


The  Eich  Fool, 
Luke  xli.  15-21. 


XXIV. 
XXV. 


XXVL 

XXVIL 


Poor,  maimed,  &c.,      .     Gentiles,  so  regarded  by 

the  Jews. 
Tliird  invitation,   .        .     To  entire  Pagan  world. 
Hiirliway,  &c.,       .        .     To  most  abandoned. 
(This  is  so  fully  esplaine<l  in  the  Lecture  it  needs 
no  analysis  here.) 


xxvin. 


The  world, 
The  light,      . 
The  field,       . 
Sowers,  seeds,  harvest. 
Men  sleeping. 


Servants, 

The  householder,  . 

The  vineyard, 

The  husbandmen,  . 

Householder's  absence. 


Time  of  fruit  and  send- 
ing servants, 

Their  treatment  of  the 
servants, 

Other  servants  sent, 
The  son, .... 
Their  remarks  about  him. 


Mankind. 

Christian  influence. 

Universal  visible  church 
(explained  in  the  text) 

Imperfect  power  of  good 
men  imperfectly  em- 
ployed. 

Reformers,  good  and  bad. 

God. 

The  interests  of  religion. 

The  Jewish  nation. 

Period  from  Moses  to  the 
destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem. 

The  expectation  of  re- 
sults from  prophetio 
messages. 

The  treatment  of  the 
prophets  by  the  early 
Jews. 

Succession  of  prophets. 

Jesus  Christ 

The  envy  of  the  Jewish 
rulers  at  Christ's  grow- 
ing influence. 

Christ  excommunicated 
and  slain  beyond  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem. 

The  Roman  army. 

The  Gentile  churches  be 
come  ascendant. 

Christ's  Church. 


Cast  him  out  and  slew 
him, 

The  lord's  coming. 
The  vineyard  let  out,     . 

The  mustard-seed,  . 

(No  one  is  authorized  to  affirm  or  deny  that  this  i? 
a  literal  narrative,  with  a  slight  addition  of  figu- 
rative dcscriiition.  It  is  certainly  figurative  in 
speaking  of  the  rich  man's  lifting  up  his  eyes, 
calling  im  Abraham,  calling  for  water,  and  en- 
treating Lazarus  to  be  sent"  to  the  earth.  They 
describe  mental  operations  after  death  has  sepa- 
rated the  spirit  from  the  body.) 
The  Net,  .  .  .  I  The  Gospel  affecting  men 
The  act  of  drawing,  .  |  Efforts  to  save  men. 
(The  rest  is  sufficiently  explained  by  the  text) 


The  nobleman 
His  going  away,  . 
Calling  his  servants, 
"  Occupy  till  I  come,"    . 

Citizens  that  hated  him. 

They  sent  a  message,    . 
His  return. 


Christ 

Interval  to  the  last  day. 
The  last  account 
Investment     with     our 

gifts. 
Jews,  and  all  who  refuse 

submission  to  Christ 
Replies  to  ministers. 
Death,  or  the  judgment 
(The  rest  is  clear.) 
(The  only  allegorical  part  seems  to  be  the  soliloquy 
and  God's  address ;  both  of  which  are  clear  enough 
to  every  mind.) 


PREFACE. 


Zl 


THE  PAYABLE. 

LEOTTTRB. 

TTPE. 

ANTITYPE. 

The  Bukied  Talent, 

XXIX.      . 

(There  are  fonr  parables  somewhat  similar,   yet 

Matt  XXV.  14-30. 

aiming  at  different  points.    That  in  Matt  xx.  1. 
describes  a   householder  paying  for  labor  pf-r- 
formed.    That  in  Matt  xxi.  33,  describes  a  house- 
holder absent  from  home,  sending  for  returns 
from  his  vineyard.    That  in  Luke  xix.  11,  de- 
scribes a  nobleman  looking  for  peouniary  returns 
for  property  entrusted.     That  in   Matt  xxv.  14, 
describes  a  master  likewise  looking  for  interest, 
but  with  the  peculiar  feature  of  the  buried  talent, 
upon  which  our  Lecture  is  founded.) 

Thb  Peinoe's  Wed- 

XXX-      . 

(This  parable  has  some  features  resembling  that  in 

ding, 

Luke  .\iv.,  yet  they  are  quite  distinct     In  that, 

Matt  xxii.  1-14 

the  first  invited  make   excuses;  in   thi:^,   they 
boldly  refuse.      In   that,  the  indignation  of  the 
king  exhibits  God's  judgments  on  Israel  for  re- 
fusing the  Gospel;  and,  also,  its  peculiar  feature 
is  that  of  the  want  of  a  wedding-garment:  on 
which  incident  the  Lecture  is  founded.) 

The   Barken    Fig- 

XXXI.      . 

The  tree, 

Every   person  in   Chris- 

TEEE, 

tendom. 

Luke  xiii.  6-9. 

The  fruit. 

Holy  obedience. 

The  axe, 

Death  of  the  impenitent. 

The  Ten  VntGrns, 

XXXII.    . 

The  virgins,   . 

Those  indulging  hope  of 

Matt  XXV.  1-18. 

salvation. 

Lamps,   .... 

External  religion. 

Wise  and  foolish,   . 

Prepared  for  heaven  and 
unprepared. 

Oil  and  no  oil, 

The  Holy  Spirit  or    the 
Soul  without  him. 

Vessels,  .... 

The  heart 

Bridegroom  tarried, 

Lifetime. 

Midnight, 

Death. 

Appeal  to  the  wise,  and 

Natural  feelings  on  both 

their  reply, 

sides. 

Door  shut. 

Exclusion  from  heaven. 

May  He  who  taught  these  mighty  truths  by  these  simple 
emblems,  condescend  to  bless  this  humble  effort  to  exhibit  His 
thoughts. 

Boston,,  January  1866. 


■^v 


CONTENTS. 


PAOI 
PSEF«i«;)K, ...  .        UL 

Introduction. 

Lecture         I.  The  Sower,    ....  Nature  and  Design  of  Par- 
ables,     8 

PAKT  I.— THE  GOSPEL. 

§  1    Its  Natuke. 

Lecture       II.  The  Seed,      ....  Origin  and  Authority  of  the 

Gospel,        ....      16 
"  III.  The  Lost  Sheep  and  Silver,     ffod's  Merer/  vindicated,      .      87 

§  2.  Its  Initiatoby  Reqttibements  anb  Fikbt  Effects. 

Lecture      IV.  The  Vine  and  Branches,       .  Faith  in  Christ,     ...      51 

§  8.  Its  Subsequent  Eequibements  and  Personal  Effects, 

Lecture       V.  The  Leaven,  ....  Piety  Internal    and    Pro- 
gressive,     ....  64 
"            VI.  The  Growing  Seed,       .        .  Ormcth  in  Piety,    ...  79 
"          VII.  The  Two  Debtors,        .        .  Deep    Conviction  produces 

strong  Love,       ...  94 
"        VIII.  The  Laborers  employed  and  ITumility  in  regard  to  our 

paid.  Merits,         .        .        .        .112 

"           IX.  The  Pharisee  and  Publican,    Humility  in  Prayer,    .        .  12S 

"             X.  The  Importunate  Widow,     .  Importttnity  in  Prayer,       .  142 

*'            XI.  The  Good  Sam.aritan,    .        .  Kindness,        ....  157 

"         XII.  The  Relentless  Servant,        .  Forgiveness,  ....  172 

S  4.  It8  Incidental  Ef.quieements. 

Lecture  XI IT,  The  Di.shonest  Steward,       .   The  Right  Use  of  Riches,         187 


CONTENTS. 


PART  II.— THE  TREATMENT  THE  GOSPEL  RECEIVES. 


§  I.  Its  Rkjeotion. 


Lecture  XIV.  The  Seed  on  the  Way-side, 
"          XV.  The  Seed  on  Stony  places, 
"        XVL  The  Seed  among  Thorns, 
"       XVII.  The  Two  Sons,      . 
"     XVIIL  The  Great  Supper, 
'        XIX.  The  Seed  on  Good  Ground,    Right  Reception  of  tJie  Gos- 
pel,      

"  XX.  The  Lost  Son  returned,       .  T7ie  Sinner's  Return,  . 


The  Heedless  Fearer,  . 
The  Cowardly  Bearer, 
The  Fatal  Compromise, 
Unreal  Obedience, 
The  Invitations  Refused, 


205 
218 
285 
253 
263 

284 


PART  III.— THE  CHURCH  AS  A  HISTORICAL  EFFECT  OF  THE 


GOSPEL. 
§  1.  Its  Intlttenck  on  Societt. 

Lecture  XXI.  The  Light  of  the  World, 
§  2.  Its  Impeefeotions. 

Lecture  XXIL  The  Tares  and  Wheat, 
§  8.  Teansfeebed  to  the  Gentiles. 
Lecture  XXIII.  The  Vineyard, 

§  4  Its  Ultimate  Sitocbss. 

Lecture  XXIV.  The  Mustard-seed, 


The  Ohv/rch  a  Messing,      .    816 
Visible  Church  imperfect,   .    828 


Visible      Church 
Catholic, 


becomes 


348 


Church  becomes  Universal,      859 


PART  IV.— THE  ETERNAL  PERSONAL  CONSEQUENCES  OF  FAITH 
AND  UNBELIEF  RESPECTING  THE  GOSPEL. 

§  1.  Reteibution. 

Lecture  XXV.  The  Rich  man  and  the  Beg-  Death  ends  Probation,         .    888 
gar. 

§  II,  Judgment,  a  Final  Disoeimlnation. 

Lecture  XXVI.  The  Drag-net,       .        .       .  The  Final  Discrimination,    400 


3.  Rewaeds  Peopoetioned  to  Meeit. 

Lecture  XXVII.  The  Absence  of  the  King,    .  Merit  rewarded, 

4.  RtriN. 

Lecture  XXVIII.  The  Rich  Fool,      . 
"  XXIX.  The  Buried  Talent, 

"  XXX.  The  Prince's  Wedding, 

"  XXXL  The  Barren  Fig-tree, 


414 


XXXII.  The  Ten  Virgins,  . 


.  Grave  Miscalculations,        .  431 

.  Neglect,  and  its  Consequences  446 

.  The  Soul  unfit  for  Heaven,  469 
.  Tlie    Useless    Life    ends  in 

Ruin, 478 

.  Unprepared  for  Judgment,  491 


INDEX 

OF  THE  PASSAGES  ON  WHICH  THE  LECTURES  ABE  FOUNDED. 


Matt 


V.  14,  Lecture  XXL 

Matt  XXV.  14, 

Lecture    XXIX 

xiii.    S, 

II. 

Mark    iv.  26, 

VL 

"      7, 

"       XVL 

Luke  vii.  86, 

VIL 

"    10, 

I. 

' 

X.  30, 

XL 

"    18, 

"       XIV. 

' 

xviii.    1, 

X. 

»    20, 

XV. 

' 

xii.  13, 

XXVIIL 

"    23, 

"      XIX. 

' 

xiii.    6, 

XXXL 

"    24, 

\   XXIL 

' 

xiv.  16, 

XVIIL 

"    31,     . 

"   XXIV. 

' 

XV.     1, 

IIL 

"    33, 

V. 

' 

"    11, 

XX. 

«    47, 

"   XX  VL 

< 

xvi.    1, 

XIIL 

xviu.  21, 

"        XIL 

' 

"     19, 

XXV. 

XX.     1, 

"      VIII. 

< 

" 

xxi.  33, 

"   XXIIL 

' 

xviii.    1, 

X. 

"    28, 

"     XVIL 

' 

9, 

IX. 

xxii.     1, 

"     XXX. 

' 

xix.  11, 

XXVIL 

XXV,     1, 

«  XXXII. 

Jo 

in  XV.     1, 

IV. 

mTKODUCTIOK 


LecUtre  I.    Nature  and  Design  of  Parables. 


LECTURE  I. 

NATURE  AND   DESIGN  OF  PARABLES, 

Matt.  xiii.  10-15.  "And  the  disciples  came,  and  said  unto  him, 
Why  speakest  thou  unto  them  in  parables  ?  He  answered  and  said  unto 
them,  Because  it  is  given  unto  you  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  but  to  them  it  is  not  given.  For,  whosoever 
hath,  to  him  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance ;  but 
whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  he  hath. 
Therefore  speak  I  to  them  in  parables :  because  they,  seeing,  see  not ; 
and  hearing,  they  hear  not ;  neither  do  they  understand.  And  in  them 
is  fulfilled  the  prophecy  of  Esaias,  which  saith,  By  hearing  ye  shall  hear, 
and  shall  not  understand  ;  and  seeing,  ye  shall  see,  and  shall  not  perceive  : 
for  this  people's  heart  is  waxed  gross,  and  their  ears  are  dull  of  hearing, 
and  their  eyes  they  have  closed ;  lest  at  any  time  they  should  see  with 
their  eyes,  and  hear  with  thair  ears,  and  should  understand  with  theii 
heart,  and  should  be  converted,  and  I  should  heal  them." 

The  word  mystery  is  liable  to  be  misunderstood, 
because,  having  several  significations,  that  wliich  is 
most  frequently  attached  to  it  in  English  usage,  was 
the  least  frequently  intended  by  the  sacred  writers. 
Its  difi'erent  significations  are  :  a  thing  that  cannot  be 
understood ;  a  thing  that  has  not  been  understood  ;  and 
a  thing  that  has  a  deeper  meaning  than  that  which  is 
most  obvious.  Now,  the  first  of  these  significations 
being  prominent  in  our  minds,  while  it  is  seldom  that 
intended  by  the  sacred  writers,  leads  to  misapprehension. 
For  instance,  in  this  passage  the  Saviom*  does  not  mean 


4  LECTURE   r. 

by  mysteries  things  tliat  cannot  be  known  ;  because 
he  says  :  "  to  yon  it  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  And  the  disciples  were  to 
proclaim  them  to  the  world  ;  for,  he  thus  commanded 
them :  "  What  ye  hear  in  the  ear,  that  preach  ye  upon 
the  house-tops ;  for,  there  is  nothing  hid  (or  myste- 
rious) that  shall  not  be  known."  The  term,  "  secret," 
or,  heretofore  not  understood,  would  represent  its  mean- 
ing in  most  cases.  The  third  idea  however  is  some- 
times conveyed  by  it.  For  instance,  Paul  alluding  to 
Eve's  being  taken  from  Adam's  side,  calls  it  a  great 
mystery ;  referring  to  Christ  and  the  Church.  Tliat 
is,  the  historical  fact  was  designed  by  God  to  be  a 
parable  ;  to  have  a  historical  and  a  spiritual  meaning  ; 
even  that  of  the  Church  deriving  her  very  being  from 
Christ,  and  consequently  holding  to  him  the  most  inti- 
mate and  vital  relation. 

To  you,  says  our  Lord,  "it  is  given  to  know  the 
mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Other  hearers 
fix  their  attention  on  the  mere  natm-al  or  historical 
part  of  the  parables ;  but  you  penetrate  to  their 
deeper  meaning  ;  and  so  find  the  truths  of  the  Gospel, 
which,  to  this  day,  have  been  a  secret  to  mankind. 

Tliis  was  said  to  the  disciples,  in  answer  to  their  in- 
quiry, why  he  taught  the  people  in  parables.  The 
meaning  and  force  of  his  reply  we  may  discover,  by 
considering 

The  nature  of  the  Parable  ;  and 

The  reasons  for  employing  it. 

I.  What  is  a  Parable  ? 

It  is  a  mode  of  instruction  founded  on  the  re- 
semblances or  analogies  between  spiritual  and  natural 


NATUKE    AND    DESIGN    OF    TAKxVBLES.  5 

objects  or  events.     It  consists  of  two  parts — the  form, 
Hud  the  substance  ;  or,  the  type,  and  the  antitype. 

1.  The  form  of  the  parable  is  a  direct  or  indirect 
statement  of  a  fact,  or  a  narrative  of  either  some  j^os- 
eible  or  real  event,  tliat  had  occurred  once  or  frequent- 
ly. The  growth  of  the  mustard-seed  is  a  fact  of  con- 
stant occurrence.  The  course  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  or 
of  Dives  and  Lazarus,  in  all  their  details,  may  have 
been  witnessed  once,  perhaps  never.  Customs,  history, 
the  relations  of  social  and  civil  life,  the  members  of 
the  body,  the  laws  of  nature,  all  furnish  resemblances 
to  illustrate  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  of  these  the 
Great  Preacher  has  availed  himself  nearly  one  hundred 
times,  as  recorded  by  the  Evangelists.  A  few  of  them 
commence  with  the  formula  ;  "  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  like."  Some  of  them  are  directly  called  parables. 
But  the  larger  part  have  no  such  indication  of  their 
figurative  nature  ;  it  being  left  to  the  good  sense  of 
mankind,  as  in  all  languages,  to  discriminate  the 
figurative  from  the  literal ;  and  it  being  taken  for 
granted,  that  only  a  wilful  perversion  of  language 
could  suppose  that  our  Lord  is  a  literal  door,  or  be- 
comes literally  bread ;  or,  that  bread  becomes  an  in- 
carnate God. 

Tlie  parable  of  Scripture  differs  from  ordinary 
figurative  language,  not  in  its  nature,  but  in  its  sub- 
ject. And  it  might  perhaps  be  correctly  defined :  a 
figurative  description  of  religious  doctrine. 

2.  To  pass  to  the  substance  of  the  parables.  "We  find 
their  themes  mainly  to  be — the  sublime  truths  of  grace, 
redemption,  and  retribution  ;  the  soul,  its  responsibili- 
ities  and  its  destiny  ;  the  Church,  and  its  destiny.  Our 
Lord,  when  speaking  of  their  design,  says,  "  to  yon  it 


6  LECTURE   I. 

is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  Matthew  tells  us  that  his  preaching  in  para 
hies  was  alluded  to  prophetically  in  the  78th  Psalm  : 
"  I  will  open  my  mouth  in  parables ;  I  will  utter  things 
which  have  been  kept  secret  from  the  foundation  of 
the  world,"  This  kingdom  is  the  dominion  of  Jesus 
Christ  over  the  souls  that  have  submitted  to  him.  And 
the  parables  select  various  phases  of  it,  showing  how  it 
begins  in  the  heart ;  the  importance  of  it ;  the  social 
aspects  of  it ;  its  progress  ;  its  embarrassments ;  its 
final  triumph  ;  and  the  glory  of  its  true  subjects  ;  with 
the  ruin  of  its  enemies,  secret  or  avowed. 

"We  may  now  propose  the  same  inquiry  with  the 
apostles : 

II.    "Why  did  the  Lord    Jesus   Christ  teach  by 

PARABLES  ? 

Two  reasons  he  here  assigns  ;  the  third  is  obviously 
seen  in  their  very  nature. 

1.  He  designed  to  show  the  union  between  nature, 
human  life,  and  the  Gospel.  His  presence  among  men 
was  itself  a  manifestation  of  the  divine  in  the  human, 
the  invisible  in  the  visible,  the  supernatural  in  the 
natural.  The  parable  is  a  similar  clothing  of  the  un- 
known in  the  known,  the  heavenly  in  the  earthly  ;  and 
we  therefore  see  a  fitness  in  the  peculiar  frequency  with 
which  he  uses  this  form  of  instruction.  But  it  also 
shows  that  the  whole  empire  of  nature  is  an  image  of 
the  empire  of  grace ;  that  the  laws  of  nature  are  re- 
flections of  the  laws  of  grace  ;  that  man  was  made  in 
the  likeness  of  God  ;  and  that  there  is  much  in  man  by 
which  we  are  to  arrive  at  an  acquaintance  with  God 
The  figurative  illustrations  employed  by  our  Saviour 


NATURE    AND    DESIGN    OF    PARABLES.  7 

give  US  the  proof  tliat  although  sin  has  destroyed  the 
harmony  of  God's  kingdom,  and  led  to  a  great  abuse 
of  nature,  yet  there  remains  an  unbroken  harmony 
still.  And  rightly  understood,  all  nature  may  be  our 
teacher,  guiding  us  back  to  God.  The  close  study  of 
these  similes  greatly  tends  to  form  the  habit  of  asso- 
ciating mth  the  incidents  of  life,  and  the  scenes  and 
operations  of  nature,  those  sublime  and  holy  truths 
which  reclaim  us  from  sin  and  the  power  of  worldly 
interests.  Had  Chi-ist  resorted  to  metaphysical  exhi- 
bitions of  the  principles  of  religion,  and  never  given 
us  these  exquisitely  simple  and  beautiful  parables,  the 
human  mind  would  have  failed  of  an  impulse  and 
impression  which  have  developed  some  of  the  finest 
effusions  of  poetry,  opened  to  millions  the  door  to  the 
sweetest  communion  with  nature,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  counteracted  the  powerful  tendency  to  divorce 
science  and  religion. 

Another  object  was — 

2.  To  unveil  the  mysteries  of  Tedeifwption.  Figu- 
rative language  is  adapted  to  all  minds.  It  has  depths 
for  the  philosopher ;  it  is  not  too  deep  for  the  child. 
It  has  an  admirable  power  of  gradually  admitting  light 
to  the  mental  eye.  At  the  same  time,  by  seizing  the 
mind  so  quickly  through  the  channel  of  its  natural  in- 
terest in  human  events  and  surrounding  objects,  it 
awakens  the  attention  of  the  young,  of  the  ignorant 
and  the  careless.  Its  form  is  instantly  comprehended 
by  all,  while  it  gives  the  impression  that  there  is  a  sub- 
stance lying  beneath.  This  prompts  inquiry.  And 
then  the  advantage  is,  that  the  memory  can  easilj 
retain  the  story ;  and  with  it,  whatever  degree  of 
spiritual  light  the  mind  may  have  received. 


8  LECTURE   I. 

But  there  are  particularly  two  features  of  the  para- 
ble which  fit  it  to  be  the  channel  of  religious  instruc- 
tion, and  wliich  claim  our  special  attention. 

Tlie  analogies  of  natm*e  and  human  life  are  among 
the  most  instructive  som'ces  of  divine  knowledge,  when 
rightly  employed.  The  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  can- 
not be  learned  from  reasoning.  There  is  indeed  that 
in  the  human  understanding,  which,  when  delivered 
from  perverting  influences,  can  receive  them  ;  but  it 
can  never  originate  them.  ISTeither  can  man's  unaided 
observation  find  them  in  nature  and  man's  life.  But 
when  the  Most  High  comes  among  us  himself  as  a 
teacher,  calling  on  nature  and  life  to  reflect  the  light 
of  his  glory,  then  they  obey.  At  his  call  they  answer 
truly.  And  gloriously  can  the  lily  then  teach.  The 
stars,  the  stones  are  full  of  truth.  But  they  will  no 
longer  imj)art  it  to  our  sinful  race,  imitil  he  that  has 
come  to  reconcile  all  things  under  one  head,  mediates 
between  us.  The  instant  he  bids  them  speak,  they 
utter  words  of  heavenly  wisdom,  of  eternal  truth,  of 
infinite  grace.  The  sower  and  his  seed  contain  the 
germ  of  momentous  truths.  And  when  Christ  points  to 
them,  and  declares,  they  mean  this, — then  the  meaning 
flashes  forth.  The  mind  discovers  a  common  law  in 
material  and  spiritual  sowing.  That  simj^le  operation 
throws  back  a  heavenly  light  on  Christ  and  his  ser- 
vants, their  feelings,  their  labors  ;  the  spiritual  eftects, 
and  the  eternal  results  of  them.  There  is  a  power  in 
that  analogy  which  no  abstract  description,  no  general 
reasoning  can  equal.  The  tares  have  a  lesson  to  teach ; 
not  something  forced  upon  them ;  not  some  artificial 
mnemonics,  by  which  the  memory  should  retain  the 
divine  truth.     But  the  divine  teacher  oj^ens  to  view 


NAITKE   AND    DESIGN   OF   PARABLES.  V 

the  intrinsic  and  real  analogy  between  tliem  and  man's 
spiritual  relations.  And  there  is  yet  more  than  this 
power  of  instruction  in  natural  objects.  Tliere  is  also 
a  power  of  conviction.  It  is  not  the  conviction  which 
logic  produces  ;  but  altogether  deeper,  where  the  heart 
is  not  so  perverted  as  to  quench  the  light.  He  who 
created  the  grain  of  mustard-seed,  is  the  Author  and 
King  of  the  heavenly  world.  And  he  has  been  pleased 
to  give  both  the  same  law  of  development ;  so  that 
when  a  person  of  unsophisticated  mind  hears  a  state- 
ment of  the  common  law  that  controls  them  both,  he 
:s  not  only  instructed,  he  is  also  convinced.  When 
Christ  compares  a  man  hearing  and  regarding  his 
word,  to  a  man  building  his  house  on  a  rock,  and 
abiding  in  safety  amid  the  storms  of  time  and  eternity ; 
and  on  the  contrary,  a  man  disregarding  his  word,  to 
one  building  on  the  sand,  and  perishing  in  the  destruc- 
tive torrent,  there  is  something  in  the  human  heart  that 
instantly  recognizes  the  truth  in  the  analogy  ;  an  argu- 
ment in  a  similitude.* 

The  parable  is  an  admirable  instrument  to  unveil 
spiritual  truth.     But  it  is  also  equally  adapted, 

3.  To  conceal  the  Truth.  "  That,  seeing,  they  might 
not  see,"  is  the  divine  declaration  of  its  intention.  This 
is,  indeed,  stating  it  in  the  strongest  form.  For,  it 
might  be  said,  that  the  prominent  reason  for  the  use 
of  it  was  its  adaptedness  to  the  preacher's  purpose  of 
instruction ;    and    also,   the  fondness,  particularly   of 

*  "  Men  are  wont  to  say,  that  parables  prove  nothing ;  nevertheless, 
comparisons  often  teach  by  depth  of  meaning  infinitely  more  and  better 
than  all  abstract  arguments ;  seeing  they  are  derived  from  nature,  the 
mirror  of  the  glory  of  the  unseen  God,  living  demonstrations,  as  it  were, 
of  the  Most  High  God  himself." — Olshausen. 
1* 


10  LECTURE   I. 

Oriental  people,  for  tMs  form  of  instruction.  When 
that  is  said,  valid  and  genuine  reasons  are  given.  But 
if  no  more  were  said,  a  most  important  view  of  the 
case  would  be  overlooked.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  his  audiences  were  a  very  mixed  multitude ;  re- 
presenting almost  every  class  in  society.  The  truth 
must  be  presented  to  all ;  but  in  such  a  way  as  to  do 
the  least  injury,  and  the  greatest  good.  While,  then,  to 
a  portion  of  his  hearers  the  parable  presented  the  truth 
to  the  utmost  advantage,  it  was  equally  desirable  in 
reference  to  another  portion.  There  were  those  so 
weak  in  prejudice,  though  sincere,  that  the  truth  must 
come  to  them  perfect  in  substance,  but  enveloped  in  a 
form  that  at  first  almost  concealed  it  from  them.  I^either 
their  national  nor  their  sectarian  feelings  could  at  first 
tolerate  the  full  statement  that  the  Gentiles  should  enter 
the  Church,  on  a  level  with  the  favored  people.  Ac- 
cordingly he  veils  the  important  fact  under  the  image 
of  a  great  supper,  to  which  the  King  invited  guests  from 
the  highways  and  hedges.  And  to  them  a  hint  was 
given  in  the  story  of  the  good  Samaritan. 

He  aimed  again  at  avoiding  a  premature  irritation 
of  his  enemies.  Scribes,  Pharisees,  Sadducees,  Hero- 
dians,  elders  and  priests ;  proud,  earthly,  ignorant,  bigot- 
ed, envious  and  murderous,  were  continually  acting  as 
spies  around  him.  It  was  therefore  indispensable  that 
he  shoidd  avoid  giving  them  any  ground  of  accusation 
before  the  Sanhedrim,  the  civil  tribunal,  or  the  people. 
Wliile  then  he  gives  them  tremendous  thrusts,  his 
meaning  is  so  couched  in  imagery,  that  they  never  got 
a  plausible  charge  against  him,  from  any  of  his  dis- 
courses. He  told  them  that  theirs  was  a  religion  cf 
words  merely  ;    and  that  publicans  and  harlots  would 


NATURE   AND   DESIGN    OF   PAEABLES.  11 

enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  from  which  they  would 
be  excluded.  But  it  was  not  wise  always  to  state  it  in 
plain  terms.  Therefore  he  told  them  of  two  sons  who 
were  commanded  by  their  father  to  go  and  work  in  his 
vineyard ;  describing  them  by  the  one  who  promised  to 
go,  but  did  not  go.  And  then  he  drew  from  them  a 
sentence  against  themselves.  He  described  to  them 
again  the  wickedness  which  they  were  about  to  perpe- 
trate ;  but  he  described  it  by  husbandmen  that  first 
killed  the  messengers  of  their  Eang,  and  then,  the  Son. 
And  under  that  disguise  he  declared  that  God  would 
fearfully  overthrow  their  nation  for  this  sin.  He  told 
them  he  was  going  away  to  get  a  kingdom  ;  to  return 
and  judge  men  according  to  their  faithfulness  or  unfaith- 
fulness to  him  ;  but  it  was  in  the  parable  of  the  Talents. 
The  main  design  of  conceahnent,  however,  is  one 
that  runs  thi'ough  all  the  works  and  providence  of  God. 
And  hence  our  Lord  explains  it  by  a  principle  of  uni- 
versal application  :  "  Whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be 
given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance  ;  but  who- 
soever hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away,  even 
that  he  hath."  Man  is  on  probation.  Astronomical 
truth  lies  hidden  in  the  heavens.  He  that  wants  it, 
may  get  it ;  but  by  desire  and  eftort.  Gold  is  in  the 
mountains,  but  desire  and  effort  alone  secure  it.  Truth 
is  in  books  and  in  the  mind  ;  but  by  desire  and  effort 
alone  can  we  get  it.  The  parable  is  a  branch  of  pro- 
bation. "  To  you  it  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  ot 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  to  them  it  is  not  given." 
This  does  not  touch  the  ground  of  sovereignty,  but  of 
probation  ;  "  for,  whosoever  hath,"  &c.  The  French 
have  a  proverb  ;  "  it  is  the  first  step  that  costs."  If  any 
man  loves  truth  enough  to  begin  to  search  for  it,  he 


12  LECTUKE    I. 

conquers  tlie  great  difficulties  in  the  beginning.  In 
tliis  probationary  state  truth  is  everywhere  in  parables. 
There  is,  what  rhetoricians  call,  the  protasis  and  the 
apodosis.  Tlie  protasis  is  the  parable.  Tlie  explanation 
is  the  apodosis.  The  disciples  were  perplexed  that  their 
Lord  gave  out  the  protasis,  and  not  the  apodosis.  His 
vindication  was  :  that  they  who  desire  ti'uth,  and  will 
seek  for  it,  shall  find  it.  But  it  will  not  force  itself 
upon  them  against  their  wills.  These  men,  said  he, 
seeing,  see  not ;  and  this  is  not  unusual,  nor  unantici- 
jDated ;  for  Isaiah  prophesied  of  it  six  hundred  years  ago. 
Their  heart,  he  says,  is  waxed  gross.  That  is,  they  are 
sensual,  worldly,  careless,  proud,  oj^posed  to  the  truth  ; 
they  love  the  darkness  more  than  the  light.  And  there- 
fore I  put  tlie  truth  before  them  in  such  forms  that  if 
they  want  the  light,  they  can  get  it ;  but  if  they  choose 
to  stop  at  the  mere  form  and  shell,  they  may. 

The  contemplation  of  our  Saviour's  mode  of  teach- 
ing enhances  our  estimate  of  his  word.  Let  us  mark 
the  simplicity  of  these  j)arables.  They  are  in  perfect 
contrast  to  the  metaj)hysics  of  the  schools  ;  to  the  pom- 
pous displays  of  learning  and  ornament ;  to  the  vagaries 
of  fancy  which  distinguish  so  generally  the  writings  of 
that  day.  On  the  one  hand,  every  thing  he  taught  was 
weighty  and  full  of  dignity  ;  but  the  form  in  which  he 
clothed  it  in  the  parables,  was  tlie  most  simple,  natural, 
and  easily  comprehensible.  If  we  may  employ  the  com- 
parison, he  was  like  Franklin  using  the  kite,  a  child's 
toy,  to  bring  lightning  from  the  clouds,  and  make  it 
subservient  to  man's  necessities.  Tlie  sublimest  truths 
were  brought  to  the  most  common  ajDprehension,  by 
the  simplest  means. 


NATUKE   AND    DESIGN    OF    PARABLES.  13 

Mark,  too,  the  weiglitiness  of  his  instructions.  It 
appears  not  to  have  been  impassioned.  But  it  was 
most  impressive.  We  are  now  so  familiar  with  the 
great  principles  he  has  inculcated  in  the  parables,  that 
they  have  ceased  to  strike  our  attention.  But  we  must 
remember  that  our  indebtedness  is  the  same  as  if  we 
had  just  heard  them.  They  are  now  incorporated  into 
men's  minds,  and  into  their  literature.  They  have 
aided  in  the  vast  work  of  elevating  man  ;  and  they  are 
still  to  go  forth  among  other  nations  ;  new  generations 
of  children  are  to  read  them  ;  heathen  tribes  are  to  be 
enlightened  by  them  ;  and  Oriental  people  are  again  to 
be  favored  with  them  as  a  new  revelation.  He  has  put 
the  key  into  the  hands  of  all  men  for  unlocking  the 
real  treasures  of  spiritual  wisdom  that  lie  concealed  in 
nature,  in  man,  and  in  the  constitution  of  human  society. 

The  boldness  and  fidelity  of  these  parables  com- 
mand our  admiration.  They  chase  the  human  heart 
into  its  subtle  windings,  and  expose  to  it  there,  most 
faithfully,  its  evils  and  its  dangers.  "With  all  the  con- 
cealment in  them,  there  was  enough  apparent  to  make 
the  most  worldly  see  that  the  Lord  was  reproving  them. 
Jesus  never  needlessly  inflicted  a  wound  on  others. 
But  he  neither  sought  men's  admiration,  nor  hesitated 
to  incur  their  displeasure,  if  declaring  to  them  neces- 
sary truth  would  offend  them.  Take  his  parable  of  the 
Rich  fool,  of  the  spendthrift  Son,  of  Dives  and  Lazarus, 
as  specimens  of  the  most  uncompromising  boldness  that 
the  annals  of  public  speaking  can  produce. 

There  is,  too,  an  admirable  weight  of  authority  in 
the  parables.  He  does  not  utter  opinions,  nor  give 
advice.  He  speaks  as  one  having  authority ;  not  in 
another's  name,  but  his  own.     He  declares  things  as 


14  LECTUKE   I. 

they  are,  and  leaves  the  mind  in  no  doubt  about  them. 
This  is  to  us  invaluable  ;  for,  there  are  so  many  influ- 
ences tending  continually  to  keep  the  mind  unsettled 
on  points  of  the  first  moment.  It  is  always  argument 
sufficient  for  us  that  Jesus  Christ  says  ;  the  kingdom 
is  like.     Then  we  know  it  is  like. 

And  then  we  are  indebted  to  him  for  teaching  us 
what  is  the  true  study  of  nature.  The  scientific  study 
brings  us  to  general  facts,  which  we  call  laws ;  and 
to  classify  objects  ;  in  some  cases  to  perceive  God's 
thoughts  and  plan  in  his  works.  But  the  parables 
reveal  to  us  in  natural  objects,  and  in  human  nature 
and  events,  the  highest  truths  ;  the  soul  in  its  expe- 
rience, duties,  and  destiny  ;  God  in  his  moral  attributes, 
and  especially  his  grace. 

How  great  an  evil  is  it  tlien  to  slight  these  instruc- 
tions !  JSTothing  more  certainly  brings  the  divine  judg- 
ments upon  the  soul.  And  the  greatest  of  them  in  this 
life,  is  that  the  truth  itself  should  harden  the  heart. 

God  will  continue  teaching  in  the  parables  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  in  the  story  of  Dives  and  Lazarus,  the  Ten  Vir- 
gins, the  Publican  and  Pharisee,  the  Prodigal  Son,  and 
the  Men  building  on  the  sand,  or  the  rock. — God  will 
continue  to  teach  in  the  parables  of  Nature,  the  Sun, 
the  Yine,  the  Bread,  and  the  Tares  ; — in  the  constitution 
of  man  and  of  Society ;  in  the  relations  of  Father  and 
Son  ;  the  existence  and  actions  of  Justice ;  the  Stew- 
ards ;  and  the  Kings  of  the  earth.  Yet  all  this  will  be 
to  many  utterly  unprofitable.  Seeing  and  hearing, 
they  will  neither  see  nor  hear.  But  they  must  render 
an  account  for  their  rejection  of  such  instruction. 

Here  is  encom-agement  to  inquirers.  The  Saviour 
explained  to  those  who  asked  for  explanation.     This 


NATURE   AND   DESIGN    OF   PARABLES.  15 

desire  to  know,  is  just  what  he  has  aimed  to  arouse  in 
you  ;  and  if  it  is  awakened,  he  will  meet  it.  You 
complain  that  you  cannot  see  clearly  the  meaning  of 
his  word,  here  and  there.  Depend  upon  this ;  if 
it  is  important  for  you  to  know  it  now,  if  you  study 
his  word,  if  you  ask  for  light  from  him,  he  will  give 
it.  The  mysteries  of  heaven  shall  become  the  treasures 
of  your  soul ;  a  heavenly  light  shall  shine  upon  your 
earthly  path.  Go  then,  like  these  docile  disciples,  and 
ask  him  who  uttered  these  mysterious  truths,  to  explain 
them  to  you. 


t.4 


^M 


PAKT  I. 


THE     GOSPEL, 


§  1.   Nature  of  the  Gospkl. 

Led.     II.  Origin  and  Authority  of  the  Gospel. 
§  2.   Defence  of  the  Gospel. 

Led.    III.  Vindication  of  the  mercy  it  reveals. 
§  3.   Its  initiatory  requirement,    and  General  effect. 

Led.    IV.  The  Vine  and  it*  Branches — Faith  in  Christ,  and  union 
with  Him. 
§  4.  Its  subsequent  requirements,  and  practical  effects. 
Led.     V.  The  Leaven — Piety  internal  and  progressive. 
"     VI.  The  Growing  Seed — Growth  in  piety. 
"    VII.  The  two  Debtors — Deep  convictions  producing  deep  piety. 
"  VIII.  The  Laborers  emj)loyed  and  paid — Humility  in  regard  to 

merits. 
"     IX.  The  Pharisee  and  Publican — Humility  in  Prayer. 
"       X.  The  Importunate  Widow — Importunity  in  Prayer. 
"     XI.  The  good  Samaritan — Kindness. 
"   XII.  The  relentless  Servant — Forgiveness. 
"  Xm.  The  unjust  Steward — True  foresight. 


LECTUKE  n. 

THE  SOWEK ;  OR,  THE  ORIGIN  AND  AUTHORITY  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 
Matt.  xin.  3.     "  Behold  !  a  sower  went  forth  to  sow." 

That  is  a  beautiful  sight  in  itself,  and  awakens  a 
delightful  train  of  reflections.  The  sower  is  a  man  of 
faith  and  hope.  He  renounces  the  present  for  the 
future.  He  seems  to  be  encouraged  by  beholding  an 
invisible  presence,  and  by  hearing  an  inaudible  voice, 
to  cast  himself  and  his  dependent  family  upon  the 
kindness  of  one  who,  though  unseen,  is  never  far  from 
as.  "  Behold  !  a  sower  went  forth  to  sow."  Stop,  and 
observe  him  ;  it  will  repay  you  ;  for  you  cannot  but 
see  something  profoundly  suggestive  and  instructive 
here.  To  an  observer  unacquainted  with  the  process 
of  vegetation,  this  man  would  seem  to  be  throwing 
away  his  bread.  But  he  is  not.  And  yet  if  he  should 
come  to  know  enough  more  about  the  process,  to  dis- 
cover what  combined  influences  are  necessary  to  bring 
the  grain  to  maturity,  and  realize  the  hopes  ot  the 
sower,  he  might  think  it  was  a  discouraging  process. 
The  temperature  of  the  ground  must  come  up  to  fifty 
and  sixty  degrees  of  our  heat-measure  ;  but  while  he 
is  sowing  it  is  down  to  forty  degrees.     Who  then  is  to 


20  LECTURE    II. 

raise  it  twenty  degrees  ?  Tlie  seed,  the  soil,  or  the  man  ? 
There  must  be  just  such  a  degree  of  moisture  ;  neither 
too  much  nor  too  little.  "Who  then  shall  water  those 
thirsty  fields  ?  There  are  to  float  on  invisible  wings 
ten  thousand  little  carriers  of  gases  ;  and  ten  thousand 
unseen  hands  are  to  convey  electric  impulses  to  the 
shooting  grain.  But  who  shall  guarantee  their  working 
in  right  time,  and  in  due  degrees  ?  Surely  this  sow^ing 
is  a  wonderful  work,  although  we  see  it  ten  times  a  day. 
The  sowing  and  the  reaping  are  connected  by  wonder- 
ful links  of  invisible  power  and  unappreciated  goodness. 
The  soil  has  a  power,  and  the  seed  has  a  power  ;  but 
both  combined  are  valueless,  unless  an  infinitely  greater 
power  shall  be  exercised.  And  that  power  is  under  no 
human  control  or  guidance.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where 
it  hsteth." 

"What  did  Jesus  intend  by  calhng  our  attention  to 
the  sower  ?  Only  to  point  us  to  something  unspeakably 
more  wonderful  and  beautiful ;  for,  he  soon  jjasses  from 
the  figure  to  its  sense,  and  calls  the  seed  "  the  word  of 
the  kingdom."  Tliis  kingdom  is  in  fact  the  great  theme 
of  the  parables.  It  is  called,  indiscriminately,  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  a  community 
in  which  God  reigns  over  a  willing,  loyal,  and  fraternal 
people.  It  is  the  new  government  to  which  our  King 
restores  f>  1  that  having  rebelled,  are  now  d-zjirous  and 
determined  to  return  to  their  allegiance.  The  re^  "J  ion 
having  taken  place,  and  continuing,  under  the  power  of  a 
lie,  the  restoration  must  take  place  under  the  power  of 
Truth  ;  of  a  depairtment  of  truth  altogether  peculiar  in 
its  adaptations  to  the  mind  and  heart  of  an  apostate 
race.     It  is  here  called  the  Word  of  the  Kingdom. 

This  opening  parable  of  our  Lord  is  occupied  with 


TUE   SOWER.  21 

the  treatment  tliat  word  receives  from  men  ;  and  so  m- 
teresting  and  imj^ortant  is  that  theme,  we  shall  devote 
Buccessive  days  to  the  successive  stages  of  it,  as  ourLord 
here  describes  them.  To-day  we  shall  find  enough  for 
our  meditations  in  the  Sower  and  his  Seed. 

The  man  who  sows,  has  an  end  in  view.  On  that 
his  heart  is  set.  His  imagination  paints  the  scene  of 
the  first  tender  germ  shooting  up  from  the  earth  ;  its 
gradual,  steady,  healthful  growth  ;  its  tall,  firm  stalk ; 
its  bearded  grain ;  its  waving,  golden  sea  of  ripened 
corn  ;  the  joy  fulness  of  the  abundant  harvest ;  and  the 
grain  safely  garnered.  So  is  the  heart  of  the  great 
Sower  set  on  the  process  of  growth  ;  and  especially  on 
the  end,  when  "  he  shall  see  of  the  ti-avail  of  his  soul, 
and  be  satisfied."  The  sower  wisely  selects,  in  refer- 
ence to  established  laws,  the  means  which  are  adapted 
to  this  end.     Herein  is  the  Son  of  God  The  Sower. 

The  analogy  holds  good  in  two  points  :  the  seed  is 
not  in  the  soil ;  but  it  has  essential  adaptations  to  it.  In 
other  words,  this  parable  presents  to  our  view,  as  its 
groundwork : 

The  nature  of  the  Gospel  as  a  revelation  ; 

The  contents  of  the  Gospel  as  an  instrument  of  re- 
demption, 

I.  Cheist  came  to  eeveal  God.  I  understand  reve- 
lation to  be  contrasted  with 

1.  Speculation.  The  human  mind  is  limited  in  its 
range  of  knowledge,  and  yet  has  an  unlimited  sphere 
opened  to  it.  If  it  gets  a  new  discovery  of  truth  from 
itself,  it  is  by  speculation  ;  a  term  perhaps  in  this  sense 
of  it  derived  from  the  Latin,  sp)eculum^  a  mirror.  When 
the  mind  is  fixed  in  certain  positions  like  a  mirror,  it 


'^2  LECTUEE   II. 

catclies  new  rays  of  light ;  new  images  are  revealed 
upon  it.  Now  this  is  what  we  mean  by  reflection  ; 
another  term  applied  equally  to  the  mirror.  It  in- 
cludes the  power  of  discovering  the  various  relations 
and  general  forms  of  truth  by  meditation.  And  in 
this  sense  philosophy  is  contrasted  with  revelation. 
AVhatever  truth  a  man  learns  by  his  own  meditations, 
he  indeed  really  learns  from  God,  because  God  gave 
him  the  power  of  generalizing  ;  and  for  this  very  pur- 
pose. But  it  is  still  a  very  different  mode  of  acquiring 
knowledge  from  that  of  revelation ;  where  general 
facts  are  communicated,  which  might  never  have  been 
reached  through  the  speculative  faculty ;  and  partic- 
ular facts  also,  which  could  not  be  known  but  by  testi- 
mony. The  word  of  the  kingdom  is  a  seed  which  is 
not  in  the  ground,  but  must  be  brought  to  it.  So  far 
however  as  this  argument  from  analogy  goes,  it  might 
be  replied, — ^Why,  the  case  is  right  against  your  doc- 
trine ;  is  not  the  very  seed  that  is  sown  the  product  of 
the  soil  ?  It  is  a  question  calling  for  an  answer,  and 
which  I  cheerfully  give.  If  we  look  at  the  analogy 
more  accurately  we  shall  see  its  comj^leteness.  Several 
philosophers  have  endeavored  to  show  that  what  we 
call  creation  is  only  development ;  that  every  thing 
which  exists,  originally  came  by  an  unconscious,  in- 
voluntary energy,  from  something  that  went  before  it, 
different  perhaps  in  the  degree  of  its  excellence,  but 
yet  really  producing  it.  Now  this  theory  is  brought  to 
the  ground  by  the  power  of  revelation,  to  those  who 
believe  it ;  and  by  the  progress  of  science  to  those  who 
are  acquainted  with  that.  Moses,  the  insj^ired  his- 
torian of  God's  earthly  kingdom,  and  keeper  of  its 
annals,   says :    "  In  the    beginning  God   created   the 


-^ 

> 


THE    SOWER.  28 

earth."  "  And  God  said  :  Let  the  earth  bring  forth 
the  herb  yielding  seed."  The  seed  then  was  created, 
like  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  by  a  divine  word.  It 
indeed  came  forth  from  the  earth,  but  because  it  had 
first  been  given  to  the  earth  by  the  divine  word.  Its 
first  existence  was  a  new  stage  in  the  process  of  cre- 
ation. Before  that  event  there  had  been  consolidation 
of  gases  into  fluids,  liquids  and  solids  ;  there  had  been 
crystalhzation  of  minerals,  as  their  highest  imitation 
of  vegetable  life.  But  the  two  great  periods  of  the 
nebulous,  and  the  mineral,  had  passed  away  before  the 
grasses  were  produced,  containing  in  themselves  the 
seeds  by  which  their  kind  should  be  perpetuated.  Thus 
the  Scripture  informs  us  of  the  origin  of  seeds. 

Then  science  shows  us  the  great  shelves  of  natm*e's 
vast  geological  museum,  on  which  are  laid,  in  some  de- 
gree of  chronological  order,  the  products  of  different  ages. 
The  development-theory,  to  be  sustained  by  science, 
should  present  to  us  a  regular  gradation  of  vegetables 
and  animals,  corresponding  to  the  successive  layers  and 
strata  of  successive  periods.  But,  instead  of  any  thing 
of  the  kind,  we  often  find  a  perfect  development  of  a 
species  lying  in  the  earth  in  the  same  chronological 
niche  with  a  more  imperfect  form  of  the  same,  which 
ought,  by  this  theory,  to  have  been  utterly  extinct  ages 
before  the  former  could  be  produced.  And  then  if  we 
leave  analogy,  and  pass  to  consider  literally  the  truths 
of  the  Scriptures,  the  point  is  settled  that  they  never 
sprang  up  spontaneously,  or  by  speculation,  in  the 
human  mind.  A  hundi'ed  illustrations  of  this  might 
be  readily  selected.  There  is  a  purity,  a  majesty,  a  sub- 
limity, a  simplicity,  a  sanctity  in  the  Scriptural  mani- 
festation of  the  Deity,  that  never   originated  in  the 


24  LECTURE   II. 

human  mind.  No ;  that  sower  went  forth  from  a  higher 
world,  who  sowed  that  seed  here  on  this  earth.  As  first 
recorded  for  us,  it  was  foimd  in  Egypt  and  the  Arabian 
desert,  at  a  period  when  there  was  no  such  learning 
in  the  schools.  The  earth  was  corrupt,  and  dark,  and 
idolatrous ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the  darkness  a  pure  and 
divine  light  lay  on  the  pages  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 
And  from  Moses  to  John,  the  same  view  of  the  divine 
natm-e,  perfections,  dominion  and  purposes,  are  con- 
tinued with  unbounded  variety,  with  all  the  evidence 
of  personal  conviction  and  individual  feeling  in  the 
writers,  but  at  the  same  time,  possessing  a  perfect,  mys- 
terious, superhuman  unity.  Then  we  might  select  the 
law  of  human  action,  and  the  standard  of  human  char- 
acter ;  especially  as  exhibited  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; 
we  might  even  say,  in  Abraham,  Moses,  Daniel,  and 
Paul.  We  might  take  the  broad,  grand  sweep  of  history 
and  prophecy  combined,  and  say^ — 'this  is  not  from  man, 
but  from  God.  We  might  take  the  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion, beginning  in  an  obscure  promise  at  the  apostacy  ; 
gradually  unfolding,  gathering  new  materials,  maturing 
itself ;  until  in  the  fulness  of  time  the  universe  beheld 
the  Deity  exhibiting  the  great  thought  of  eternity,  the 
key-stone  of  the  plans  of  infinite  wisdom,  the  key-note 
of  eternal  anthems.  Surely  this  came  not  from  the 
speculations  of  Moses,  or  David,  of  John  or  of  Paul. 
This  was  revealed.  The  world  by  wisdom  knew  not 
God  ;  then  holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they  were  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  the  confirmation  of  this  grows 
stronger  as  you  go  into  the  details  of  the  Scriptures. 
Once  admitting  them  to  be  true,  and  you  must  also 
admit  that  the  principal  parts  never  came  from  man's 
meditations.    Tlie  creation  no  man  could  describe,  from 


TUB    SOWER.  25 

eje-sight  nor  from  speculation.  By  faith  we  must  be- 
lieve "  that  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the  Word  of  God, 
so  that  things  which  are  seen,  were  not  made  of  things 
which  do  appear." 

But  we  cannot  afford  time  to  press  this  argument 
farther.  I  understand  revelation  to  be  thus  in  contrast 
with  speculation  ;  and  also,  with 

2,  Argument  or  Reasoning. — Here  we  need  to  dis- 
criminate. There  are  many  specimens  of  reasoning  in 
the  Scriptm-es.  Reason  is  a  noble  faculty  in  the  human 
mind,  needed  at  every  step  on  earth,  and  for  ever  in 
heaven.  Paul  reasoned,  Jesus  reasoned.  How  then 
can  we  say  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  is  a  revelation, 
and  not  an  argument  ?  Our  meaning  is :  that  the 
Scriptures  do  not  depend  for  their  power  upon  a  pro- 
cess of  reasoning,  but  upon  Divine  testimony  ;  that 
true  faith  in  the  Scriptures  is  confidence  in  that  testi- 
mony. Select  a  few  of  the  main  features,  and  see  how 
the  case  stands. 

Tlie  great  fact  of  God's  existence  is  not  reasoned, 
but  affirmed.  Its  sublime  opening  sentence  is  :  "  In  the 
beginning  Elohim  created."  But  who  is  Elohim  ?  Is 
he  himself  a  creation  ;  or,  does  he  exist  from  the  neces- 
sity of  the  case,  or  by  some  previous  volition  ?  Does 
he,  in  announcing  his  existence,  appeal  to  some  admit- 
ted facts  in  the  human  mind,  as  premises,  and  then 
proceed  to  deduce  an  irresistible  conclusion  ?  If  such 
argumentation  is  found  in  the  Bible,  it  is  not  in  the 
Pentateuch,  nor  often  in  other  parts.  Their  principal 
stress  is  laid  on  positive  affirmations,  and  historical  state- 
ments of  the  Divine  acts. 

The  prophecies,  threatenings  and  promises  of  the 
Bible  do  not  come  through  the  reasoning  faculty.  The 
2 


26  LECTURE    11. 

liistoiy  of  Creation  is  not  an  argument.  The  history  of 
the  Church  ;  the  biographies,  the  devotional  feelings 
expressed  in  the  Psalms ;  Adam's  apostacy  ;  its  conse 
quences  to  us ;  the  atonement  of  Christ ;  the  offers  of 
eternal  life  ;  the  descriptions  of  the  judgment,  of  hell 
and  heaven  ;  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  the  efficacy 
of  prayer ;  tlie  mediation  of  Christ ;  the  Trinity  ;  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  not  reasoned  ;  they  are 
aihrmed  and  explained.  Objections  indeed  arc  an- 
swered ;  but  that  process  presumes  the  existence  of  a 
revealed  fact,  and  then  merely  shows  it  to  be  in  har- 
mony with  other  facts,  and  with  man's  enlightened 
reason. 

Where  is  the  law  of  God  founded  upon  an  argument  ? 
"  Thou  shalt ;  thou  shalt  not,"  is  its  language,  and  its 
spirit.  ISTo  ;  it  is  not  to  the  logical  part  of  our  nature 
that  God  has  addressed  his  word  ;  but  to  that  which  we 
may  call  the  moral  sense,  or  religious  sentiment.  If  he 
had  depended  on  mere  reasoning,  there  would  have 
been  many  defects  in  the  Scriptures  as  a  book  for  man- 
kind. How,  for  instance,  could  the  simple  understand 
the  profoundness  of  that  argumentation  which  would  be 
necessary  to  prove  every  thing  ?  Samuel  Clarke  under- 
takes to  represent  a  process  of  reasoning,  by  which  God's 
existence  is  demonstrated.  How  many  can  understand 
his  arguments  ?  AVhat  proportion  of  this  uneducated, 
care-absorbed  race,  every  study  it ;  and  who  of  the 
learned  believes  one  whit  the  more  for  all  his  logic  ? 
Then  again,  the  Bible  would  have  been  as  dry  as  the 
tomes  of  philosophy  ;  as  uninviting  to  the  sick,  the 
weary,  the  child,  the  soul  oppressed  with  sin,  and  long- 
ing for  one  kind  word  of  promise  from  an  offended  Sa- 
viour.    Then  again  ;  God  would  have  assumed  to  his 


THE    SOWER.  27 

creatures  tlie  attitude,  not  of  a  Sovereign  to  be  obeyed 
on  accomit  of  liis  authority  ;  a  Father  to  be  believed  on 
liis  own  testimony  or  promise  ;  but  a  teacher  of  Philos- 
ophy, a  master  of  Logic  ;  whose  success  and  fame  de  • 
pend  on  his  skill  in  argument. 

Tliere  is  indeed  reasoning  in  the  Scriptures.  The 
parables  are  all  in  one  of  the  forms  of  logic.  But 
it  is  not  the  demonstrative,  or  that  form  which  finds 
its  premises  in  the  intuitive  axioms  of  the  human  mind. 
Tlie  mind  must  indeed  believe  something,  or  even  a 
revelation  cannot  be  made  to  it.  But  the  difference 
between  these  parables  and  formal  reasoning  may  be 
illustrated  by  a  pujDil  before  his  teacher,  learning 
through  argument.  The  teacher  can  affirm  nothing 
by  his  own  veracity,  so  far  as  pure  reasoning  goes  ; 
he  can  enjoin  nothing  by  authority.  And  when  ho 
has  finished,  the  pupil  knows  all  that  he  has  learned, 
by  the  independent  operations  of  his  own  mind. 
He  then  returns  to  his  father's  house.  There  the 
voice  of  authority  meets  him,  stating  the  parental 
will ;  there  the  voice  of  afi^ection  meets  him,  cheering 
his  heart ;  there  the  voice  of  truth  meets  him,  testifying 
to  facts.  The  father  may  explain,  he  may  show  the 
consistency  of  one  thing  with  another.  But  sm-ely  the 
process  in  the  school  has  been  very  different  from  that 
in  the  family.  And  the  two  produce  very  different, 
though  entirely  harmonious  results  on  the  mind  of  the 
child.  The  parables  are  explanations,  summoning  na- 
ture and  human  life  to  testify  to  the  realities  of  God's 
kingdom.  Paul  reasoned  out  of  the  Scriptures.  He 
gave  an  exposition  of  what  the  Scriptures  meant ; 
always  founding  his  argument  upon  things  already  be- 
lieved on  divine  authority.    The  epistles  to  the  Pomans, 


38  LECTUKE   II. 

the  Galatians  and  the  Hebrews,  are  enth-ely  of  this  kind. 
The  disconrse  in  Athens  is  the  nearest  to  an  argument 
of  the  schools,  of  any  thing  found  in  the  Scriptures. 
But  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  we  have  the  most  com- 
plete illustration  of  what  I  am  affirming.  "  Blessed  are 
the  poor  in  spirit,"  is  its  opening  sentence.  And  so  it 
proceeds.  Here  "  he  spake  as  one  having  autliority .^^ 
And  that  characterizes  the  Bible.  Neither  its  History, 
its  Prophecy,  the  Law,  nor  the  Gospel,  are  founded  upon 
processes  of  argumentation ;  they  are  to  be  believed  be- 
cause God  affirms  them.  Keason  may  properly  ask  for 
evidence  that  he  does.  Only  there  let  her  beware.  K  she 
assumes  her  own  unbiassed  readiness  to  hear  God  speak 
and  her  infallible  readiness  to  recognize  his  voice,  she 
knows  not  herself,  nor  her  associates.  The  Word  of 
God  is  to  be  believed,  because  He  affirms  it ;  and  He 
will  hold  his  children  responsible  to  recognize  His 
voice.  Li  this,  as  in  nature,  the  truth  lies  open.  He 
that  has  a  heart  for  truth  finds  it,  and  is  led  by  it  into 
the  paths  of  life  :  he  that  loves  darkness  more  than 
light,  is  "  given  over  to  strong  delusion  to  believe  a 
lie,"  and  falls  into  the  snares  of  death.  Man  is  on  pro- 
bation, not  so  much  to  test  the  soundness  of  his  reason- 
ing powers,  as  to  ascertain  whether  he  will  accept  of  a 
ransom  and  of  a  remedy  for  the  diseases,  disorders  and 
curse  of  his  moral  nature  ;  and  the  Bible  is  the  great 
instrument  of  God's  government  in  this  j^robationary 
course. 

It  only  remains  now  to  state  in  regard  to  the  nature 
of  the  Gospel  as  a  revelation,  that  it  is  a 

3.  Direct  unveiling  of  Trvth. — It  is  called  a  mys- 
tery hidden  from  ages.  Man  labored  up  the  steeps  of 
logic,  plied  the  powers  of  argument,  sounded  the  depths 


THE   SOWER.  2& 

of  reason,  and  where  did  he  come  out  at  last  ?  "  The 
world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God."  The  highest  point 
Grecian  acuteness  reached  was,  to  inscribe  an  altar  to 
"  the  unknown  God."  "  For  after  that,  the  world  by 
wisdom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God  by  the  foolish- 
ness of  preaching  to  save  them  that  believe.  As  it  is 
written  ;  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him.  But  God  hath 
revealed  them  unto  us  by  his  Spirit :  for  the  Spirit 
searcheth  all  things,  yea,  the  deep  things  of  God." 

If  we  do  not  see  and  believe  this  feature  of  the 
word,  I  know  not  how  we  are  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 
He  speaks  as  one  having  authority.  He  says  :  "  it  is 
written."  He  affirms  that  all  things  written  in  the  law 
and  the  prophets  are  true  ;  and  that  if  we  do  not  be- 
lieve the  Scriptures,  there  is  no  hope  for  us.  If  we  do 
n  see  this  feature  of  the  word,  we  cannot  comprehend 
the  parable  of  the  sower.  The  seed  is  the  "Word. 
"Wliose  word  ?  Socrates',  Plato's,  Paul's  ?  ISTo  ;  the 
Word  of  the  living  God.  Revelation  is  the  result  of 
inspiration,  or  special,  infallible  divine  communication 
to  the  writers,  to  secm-e  ;heir  knowing  what  could  be 
known  only  by  a  direct  divine  communication ;  their 
remembering  what  divine  wisdom  would  have  them  re- 
member and  state  ;  their  expressing  it  in  language  that 
most  fully  exhibits  the  Divine  thought.  K  the  language 
of  the  whole  is  not  as  infallible  as  the  language  of  the 
Ten  Commandments,  then  man  can  have  no  revelation. 
Many  believe  that  the  apostles  and  prophets  were  in- 
spired ;  that  is,  lifted  out  of  the  ordinary  state  of  human 
thought  in  receiving  the  subjects  to  be  communicated 
in  this  book ;  but  that  they  were  no  more  inspired  in 


30  LECTURE   II. 

expressing  tlieir  thoiiglits,  than  Milton  Tras  in  -writing 
Paradise  Lost.  But  if  Paul  was  iniallible  in  his  con- 
ception of  the  truth,  and  yet  left  to  his  human  fallibility 
when  he  came  to  exjsress  it,  what  certainty  have  I  in 
reading  his  writings  ?  How  can  they  bind  my  con- 
science, or  awaken  my  belief  in  truths  which  transcend 
experience  and  reason  ?  Even  those  who  believe  in  the 
inspiration  of  the  men,  and  not  of  the  book,  believe  that 
we  have  in  the  original  of  the  decalogue  the  very  words 
which  God  wrote  by  a  miraculous  operation.  Probably 
no  one  of  us  would  venture  to  criticise  or  correct  them. 
But  if  the  rest  of  the  Word  is  not  as  really  God's  as 
that,  then  we  have,  so  far,  no  infallible  revelation  ;  for 
just  where  the  conscience  ought  to  be  bound,  there  the 
reason  may  find  an  objection  ;  just  where  the  foot  is  to 
be  i)lanted  for  eternity  upon  a  declaration  or  promise 
of  God  who  cannot  lie,  there  it  may  tread  upon  thin 
ice  :  some  poor  word  that  Paul  in  his  weakness  put  in 
there,  blundering  out  his  imperfect  notions  of  divine 
things.  Oh  !  give  me  a  word  from  God,  for  my  soul ; 
not  from  Paul,  nor  Moses,  but  from  the  living  God. 

We  now  tm-n  to  the  contents  of  the  Gospel  as  an  in- 
strument of  redemption. 

II.  The  Son  of  God  caisie  to  eeveal  God  in  Chkist. 

I  speak  of  his  coming,  in  its  broad  sense.  When  it 
is  said,  Christ  went  and  preached  to  the  spirits  im- 
prisoned in  Noah's  day ;  when  it  is  said,  "  neither  let 
us  tempt  Christ "  as  the  Jews  did  in  the  wilderness  ; 
when  Peter  speaks  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  the  an- 
cient prophets,  we  have  the  fact  revealed,  that  the  Son 
of  God  was  in  the  beginning  with  the  Church.  "  By 
bim  were  the  worlds  created."    By  the  coming  of  Chi-ist 


THE   SOWEK.  31 

then,  we  understand  all  the  exhibitions  made  of  God 
through,  and  to  the  Church,  from  the  begimiing  to  the 
end  of  time.  "  The  spirit  of  prophecy  is  the  testimony 
of  Jesus."  It  is  a  revelation  of  God  ;  but  of  God  in 
Christ.  It  contains  then,  as  the  instrument  of  redemp- 
tion, or  as  the  word  of  the  kingdom, 

1.  The  ground^  extent^  and  conseqiiences  of  mm^^s 
controversy  with  God.  That  these  should  be  stated,  is, 
for  many  reasons,  indispensable  to  a  vindication  of  the 
providence  of  God.  If  we  are  not  rebels,  our  position 
is  a  reproach  to  God ;  our  maladies,  wastings  and  dy- 
ing ;  our  darkness,  sorrows,  and  fears  are  inexplicable. 
Eut  our  mm-muring  must  turn  to  self-reproach  ;  our 
complaining,  to  rej^entance  ;  our  despondency,  to  in- 
quiries after  the  way  of  deliverance  ;  om-  levity,  to  a 
serious  view  of  the  sorrows  and  the  gloomy  ending  of 
life,  when  it  is  recognized  that  we  have  revolted  from 
God ;  and  then  we  must  see  God's  treatment  of  us  to 
be  just.  Ignorant  of  our  sinfulness,  we  cannot  know 
our  relations  to  God,  nor  see  that  our  natm-al  claims 
on  his  kindness  are  forfeited,  and  that  we  are  spared 
by  his  patience  and  mercy. 

We  need  to  see  the  urgency  of  our  spiritual  neces- 
sities, that  we  may  escape  from  the  control  of  our  slug- 
gishness, pride,  worldliness,  and  ungodliness  ;  which 
will  keep  us  listless,  dreaming  and  torpid  through  life, 
unless  our  consciences  are  thus  thoroughly  aroused. 

We  need  to  see  what  change  must  take  pi  ace  in  our 
characters  and  in  our  treatment  of  God,  and  how  we 
may  be  reconciled  to  him. 

Tliese  influences  the  Word  contains  fully ;  in  the 
law,  the  life  of  Christ,  the  lives  of  his  saints ;  in  the 
revelation  of  the  final  judgment  and  of  destiny,  of  the 


32  LECTURE   II. 

Lrevity  of  life,  of  tlie  many  impediments  to  om*  salva 
tion,  and  om*  great  liability  to  fail  of  it.  The  Scrip- 
tures contain,  also, 

2.  TTie  ground  and  terms  of  reconciliation.  Man 
condemned  and  miserable  must  find  the  path  that  leads 
back  to  his  father's  house  ;  must  hear  a  cheering  voice 
urging  his  return ;  and  must  feel  the  pressure  of  a 
ffiendly  hand  leading  him  back  amid  tlie  darkness 
that  surrounds  spiritual  things.  He  must  know  that 
one  is  waiting  at  the  door  to  take  him  in. 

Such  is  the  Word  of  the  kingdom.  It  is  the  Gospel 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Its  theme  is  redemption, 
and  Christ  the  Redeemer.  The  history  and  the 
prophecy  point  to  him.  The  law  is  in  his  hands,  as 
a  Mediator  intrusted  with  the  conflicting  interests  of 
the  two  parties.  In  him  the  promises  are  all  "  yea  and 
amen." 

One  has  said  :  "  inasmuch  as  Christ  is  the  physician 
and  the  medicine  ;  the  priest  and  the  sacrifice  ;  the 
Redeemer  and  redemption  ;  legislator  and  law  ;  j)orter 
and  door  ;  so  he  is  the  sower  and  seed.  For,  the  Gos- 
pel is  only  Christ  incarnate  ;  born,  preaching,  dying, 
rising,  sending  the  Spirit,  gathering  the  Church,  sancti- 
fying and  governing  it."  "I  am  the  way,  the  ti-uth, 
and  the  life."  Many  think  it  enough  to  know  the 
terms  of  salvation,  without  troubling  themselves  with 
the  grounds  of  it.  But  not  to  say,  that  faith,  one  of 
those  terms,  involves  a  knowledge  of  the  grounds,  it  is 
obvious  that  we  must  know  them,  because  the  mode 
of  our  reconciliation  with  God  is  a  matter  of  supreme 
importance.  If  he  displays  indifference  to  the  precept 
of  his  law  in  saving  us,  our  respect  for  it  is  destroyed. 
If  he  displays  indifference  to  its  penalty,  then  all  our 


THE   80WEE.  33 

prejudices  against  it  are  aroused,  and  the  whole  au- 
thority of  God  as  moral  governor  is  broken.  K  he 
cannot  rightly  annex  penalties  to  his  laws,  and  if  he 
camiot  sternly  execute  them  without  betraying  a  want 
of  benevolence,  then  government  is  at  an  end  ;  the 
Cross  is  the  grand  instrument  of  rebellion,  the  Gospel 
a  proclamation  of  anarchy.  Fellow-man,  will  you  see 
this  point?  Tlie  Godhead  of  Christ,  his  expiatory 
sufferings  having  reference  to  the  curse  of  the  law,  are 
the  chief  points  in  the  Gospel.  Thus  law  and  gov- 
ernment are  upheld,  while  man  is  pardoned  and  re- 
stored ;  thus  Justice  presides  with  Mercy  at  that  ban- 
quet where  tlie  prodigal  sits  down  again  at  the  family 
festival,  clothed,  cleansed,  forgiven,  welcomed,  sadly 
happy,  at  rest,  and  full  of  hope  !  The  Word  contains, 
also, 

3.  The  motives  to  reconciliation.  This  is  the  third 
great  requisite.  It  is  not  enough  for  man  only  to 
know  ;  he  must  also  be  moved.  Tlie  voluntary  or 
active  power  in  us  requires  two  kinds  of  influence, — 
repulsion  and  attraction.  Some  persons  count  it  a 
degradation  that  their  wills  should  have  two  handles, 
instead  of  one.  They  insist  upon  it  that  they  are 
"  never  to  be  driven  ; "  they  are  not  to  be  "  frightened 
into  religion  ; "  they  "  never  did  fear  future  punish- 
ment ; "  it  is  "  beneath  the  greatness  of  man  to  be 
urged  by  fear."  And  thus  they  contend  with  the 
Gospel,  because  it  drives  as  well  as  draws.  But  if  it 
had  not  these  two  cords,  it  would  betray  a  human  in- 
stead of  a  divine  origin.  If  some  men  had  invented 
the  Gospel,  they  would  have  made  it  all  terror  ;  others 
would  have  made  it  all  invitation.  God  has  blended 
the  two  in  the  Scriptures,  just  as  he  has  in  nature. 


34  LECTUKE   II. 

Every  step  you  take,  every  word  you  utter  in  this 
woi'ld,  is  under  two  influences — ^t'ear  and  hope.  And 
the  more  wise  you  become,  the  more  fully  you  become 
aware  of  the  dangers  that  beset  you  when  you  walk 
and  when  you  speak.  You  are  not  always  in  a  fright ; 
you  may  be  very  tranquil,  or  very  happy  ;  and  yet  your 
cautiousness  is  kept  awake  by  your  knowledge  of  your- 
self, of  your  fellow-men,  and  of  the  world  in  which  you 
live.  Fear  and  hoj^e  ;  fear  and  hope  on  every  side 
make  the  wholesome  discipline  of  life.  The  Gosjjel  is 
framed  by  him  who  knows  what  is  in  man.  Its  truths 
appeal  to  fear  and  hope  in  extreme  degrees.  Nothing 
half-way  has  place  there.  If  it  takes  hold  upon  you, 
it  will  make  you  earnest,  as  it  made  Paul  and  Peter, 
Luther  and  Hemy  Martyn.  If  this  seed  drops  into 
your  heart,  and  takes  root  there  without  obstruction, 
one  of  its  fruits  will  be  Earnestness  /■ — earnestness  for 
your  own  sake,  for  others'  sake,  for  Christ's  sake.  He 
was  earnest  in  prayer ;  and  "  was  heard,  in  that  he 
feared."  Paul  was  earnest,  lest  after  having  warned 
other  men,  he  himself  should  be  a  castaway.  Jude  was 
earnest,  and  would  make  others  so  ;  "  pulling  them," 
he  says,  "  out  of  the  fire." 

The  great  motive-power  of  the  Gospel  inclines  to 
Penitence,  Love,  Faith,  Obedience,  Hope  and  Prayer. 

Tlien  there  is  an  infinite  value  in  the  Scriptures. 
Tliey  are  the  Word  of  the  kingdom  ;  the  seed  of  life  for 
the  human  soul.  They  come  clothed  with  that  authority 
which  our  consciences  need  ;  since,  for  our  perfect  sanc- 
tification  we  need  both  a  divine  law  and  a  divine  Sanc- 
tifier.  They  come,  transcending  our  reason ;  but  meet- 
ing all  its  claims,  by  their  miraculous  accompaniments 
and  history,  by  their  singular  purity  of  sentiment  and 


THE   60WEK.  35 

elevation  of  style.  Tliey  come,  fully  adapted  to  relieve 
our  profoundest  wants  ;  teaching  us  that  which  we 
need  to  know  of  God  and  ourselves  ;  having  the  solu- 
tion of  our  complex  experience  ;  unveiling  the  future, 
and  showing  us  the  way  of  life. 

May  we  not  indulge  the  hope  that  we  are  approacli- 
ing  the  golden  age  of  Biblical  study  ?  The  barbarism 
of  our  indifference  to  the  Bible  will  point  many  a 
future  tale  of  the  present  period.  God's  primitive 
revelation  w^as  in  matter ;  the  next,  in  providence  ; 
then  came  the  Word.  Science  is  now  doing  her  last 
great  work  with  the  primitive  and  inferior  revelation  in 
matter ;  soaring  to  all  the  grandeurs  of  heaven,  and 
plunging  to  the  depths  of  earth  for  its  secret  stores  of 
knowledge.  Tliis  department  of  investigation  must 
needs  be  completed ;  then  will  come  two  studies  to 
close  the  present  dispensation  for  human  intelligence, 
that  of  the  letter  of  Scripture,  and  that  of  theology. 
But  that  day  may  come  too  late  for  some  who  now  read 
this  prediction.  A  veil  will  remain  on  their  eyes  until 
probation  is  ended,  and  destiny  commenced.  Remem- 
ber, fellow-immortal,  the  parable  of  the  sower ;  for 
Jesus  uttered  it ;  and  in  it  he  describes  four  classes  of 
hearers.  To  one  of  these  you  must  belong,  for  ever  ! 
Remember,  that  the  power  of  the  Word  is  not  absolute. 
Man  remains  free  to  resist  and  reject  its  influence. 
The  truths  are  adapted  to  him  ;  even  as  a  being  fallen 
from  his  original  excellence,  and  strongly  disinclined  to 
obey  God's  holy  law. 

The  possession  of  this  "Word  is  not  only  a  personal 
privilege,  but  also  creates  a  responsibility  to  dissemi- 
nate it.     They  to  whom  this  seed  is  freely  given,  are 
bound  to  scatter  it,  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
9,* 


36  LECTUKE   II. 

great  Sower.  How  diligently  he  was  engaged  in  tliia 
work ;  how  unsparing  of  himself ;  often  disregarding  the 
claims  of  hnnger  and  sleep  !  But  "  if  any  man  have 
not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his." 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  a  man  like  Chalmers,  who 
had  so  profoundly  felt  the  transforming  power  of  the 
Gospel,  should  have  employed  it  confidently,  as  the  in- 
dispensable and  sufficient  agency  in  transforming  the 
vilest  beings  that  infest  the  old  cities  of  Euro])e.  And 
our  brethren  are  now  abroad  repeating  the  labors  which 
once  transformed  pagan  Euroj)e ;  which  afterward  re- 
formed apostate  Europe  ;  and  which  prepared  the  people 
who  should  found  the  civil  and  religious  institutions  of 
this  land.  We  are  repaying  Asia  and  Europe  the  debt 
we  owe  them,  when  we  send  back  to  them  the  word  of 
God's  redemption,  which  they  have  lost,  to  so  great  an 
extent.  "We  are  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  the  great 
Sower,  when  we  go  to  the  barren  wastes  of  heathen- 
dom and  of  the  papal  dominions,  and  scatter  this  re- 
generating word  of  heavenly  truth. 

For  our  own  beloved  land  there  is  hope,  if  this 
truth  shall  become  the  germ  of  our  national  character. 
We  fear  various  evils  for  those  who  shall  succeed  us. 
But  we  may  be  assured  that  if  the  Word  of  God  shall 
rule  in  our  colleges,  our  halls  of  legislation,  our  families, 
and  our  hearts,  the  blessing  of  God  will  rest  upon  the 
nation,  and  nothing  sliall  be  able  to  harm  it. 


LECTUEE  m. 

THE  LOST  SILVER  AND  THE  LOST  SHEEP ;   OR,  GOD'S  MERCY 
VINDICATED. 

Luke  xv.  1-10.  "Then  drew  near  unto  him  all  the  publicans  and 
sinners  for  to  hear  him.  And  the  Pharisees  and  scribes  murmured,  say- 
ing, This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them.  And  he  spake  this 
parable  unto  them,  saying,  What  man  of  you,  having  a  hundred  sheep,  if 
he  lose  one  of  them,  doth  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness, 
and  go  after  that  which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ?  And  when  he  hath  found 
it,  he  layoth  it  on  his  shoulders,  rejoicing.  And  when  he  cometh  home, 
he  calleth  together  his  friends  and  neighbours,  saying  unto  them,  Rejoice 
with  me  ;  for  I  have  found  my  sheep  which  was  lost.  I  say  unto  you,  that 
likewise  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than 
oveE  ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  which  need  no  repentance.  Either  what 
woman  having  ten  pieces  of  silver,  if  she  lose  one  piece,  doth  not  light  a 
candle,  and  sweep  the  house,  and  seek  diligently  till  she  find  it?  And 
when  she  hath  found  it,  she  calleth  her  friends  and  her  neighbours  together, 
saying.  Rejoice  with  me ;  for  I  have  found  the  piece  which  I  had  lost. 
Likewise,  I  say  unto  you,  there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God 
over  one  sinner  that  repenteth. 

"We  have  seen  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  which 
forms  the  subject  of  the  Parables,  is  a  dispensation 
of  Divine  mercy.  Had  it  been  a  dispensation  of  rigid 
justice,  gloom  and  despair  had  hnng  over  our  guilty 
race,  instead  of  that  bright  canopy  now  illuminated  by 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  and  by  the  stars  of  promise 


33  LECTUKE    III. 

wlien  his  beams  are  liid.  Had  it  been  a  dispensation 
of  partial  kindness  favoring  the  most  self-conceited  and 
formal,  tben  tbe  Pharisees  had  hailed  it.  But  as  it 
was,  and  is,  a  dispensation  of  mere  mercy,  of  imj^artial 
kindness  ;  they  hated  it,  and  still  hate  it. 

The  Pharisees  and  Scribes  were  men  who  sought 
in  religion,  self-flattery ;  the  nourishment  of  pride, 
rather  than  its  annihilation,  Tliey  were  disappointed 
and  chagrined,  that  Jesus,  a  being  of  such  lofty  char- 
acter, and  with  so  many  tokens  of  a  heavenly  com- 
mission, did  not  fall  in  with  their  notions,  and  strengthen 
their  position. 

This  chagrin  was  provoked  to  hatred,  when  they  saw 
irreligious  people  following  Christ,  and  listening  to  his 
discourses  with  an  earnestness  with  which  they  had  never 
honored  the  jejune  homilies  of  their  authorized  teachers. 
Their  feelings  w^ere  expressed  in  an  objection  to  his 
course,  which  implied  more  than  it  uttered  :  "  this  man 
receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them ; "  a  charge 
implying  that  he  associated  with  them,  IVom  either  an 
insensibility  to  their  wickedness,  or  a  delight  in  it.  He 
replied  to  their  reproach  in  three  parables  ;  all  having 
the  same  meaning  as  arguments,  but  varying  in  their 
aspect.  The  first  two  are  designed  to  justify  God's 
seeking  the  sinner ;  the  third  comes  to  the  case  in  hand, 
and  vindicates  with  the  most  glorious,  yet  withering 
eloquence,  God's  reception  of  the  penitent. 

We  shall  consider  the  first  two  together. 

I.  What  then  is  the  mercy  of  God,  ajstd  what  does 

IT  DO? 

It  is  the.  Mildness  of  God  regarding  man  as  lost. 
''  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten 


THE    LOST    SILVER    AND    THE    LOST    SHEEP.  39 

Son,  tliat  whosoever  believeth  in  liim  should  not  perish, 
but  liave  everlasting  life."  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to 
some  persons,  yet  is  it  true,  that  nothing  has  called 
forth  more  intense  opj)osition  from  the  human  heai't 
than  the  manifestation  of  this  feeling  in  God.  The 
reason  however  is  obvious.  It  assumes  the  fact  that 
all  are  lost,  unless  their  condition  and  character  be 
changed.  It  makes  nothing  of  imagined  native  excel- 
lence ;  it  throws  an  awful  seriousness  over  life  ;  it  pours 
contempt  on  mucli  that  men  consider  wise,  and  excel- 
lent, and  important ;  and  stamps  vanity  on  the  hopes 
and  struggles  and  toils  of  those  who  are  greatest  and 
wisest  in  their  own  conceit,  and  in  other's  estimation. 
It  is  the  enemy  and  annihilator  of  all  the  Pharisaism 
that  ever  has  been,  is,  or  shall  be. 

It  regards  man  as  recoveraljle.  The  obstacles  to 
man's  recovery  are  vast ;  the  way  is  long,  with  a  rugged 
ascent ;  nay,  to  restore  man  to  holiness  and  the  divine 
favor,  is  impossible  to  any  but  the  Son  of  God ;  and 
even  to  him,  excej^t  at  an  inconceivable  cost.  Yet 
man,  sinful,  blinded,  wretched  man  ;  yea,  the  most 
sinful  may  be  reclaimed,  regenerated,  redeemed,  re- 
stored, and  blessed  for  ever  in  the  presence  of  God. 

Mercy  seeks  Ms  recovery.  "  The  Son  of  Man 
came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  is  lost."  Doth 
not  the  shepherd  "  leave  the  ninety -nine  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  go  after  that  which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ? 
And  again : 

Mercy  rejoices  in  the  salvation  of  'man.  After  hav- 
ing made  atonement  for  his  sins,  and  sent  forth  the 
word  of  grace  and  the  renewing  Spirit,  and  brouglit  the 
Boul  of  man  to  genuine  repentance  and  faith  in  God, 
then  "there  is  joy  in  heaven."     Now; 


4:0  LECTUKE   III. 

II.  What  aversion  do  men  manifest  to  that  ? 

1.  That  of  indifference.  It  were  easy  to  show  that 
iiidifference  toward  certain  objects  is  impossible  ;  but 
that  it  is  often  convenient  to  make  aversion  put  on  the 
air  of  indifference.  And  it  could  also  be  shown  that 
this  exercise  of  the  divine  mercy  is  just  one  of  those 
objects  ;  nay,  that  it  is  supremely  true  that  no  human 
being  can  be  really  indifferent  to  the  intelligence  con- 
veyed to  us  in  the  Gospel.  "  He  that  is  not  with  me, 
is  against  me."  But  as  opj)osition  assumes  that  position 
frequently,  we  must  vindicate  it  against  that.  Then 
there  is  an  aversion, 

2.  WJiich  manifests  itself  in  objections.  These  may 
be  either  expressed  or  secretly  entertained.  The  hope- 
lessness of  great  sinners  is  a  settled  position  with  the 
Pharisees  of  every  land  and  every  age.  And  therefore 
their  main  object  is  to  keep  at  such  a  distance  from 
these  miserable  creatures  as  to  avoid  contamination ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  to  look  with  indifference,  if  not 
suspicion,  upon  all  sympathy  for  them,  and  all  efforts 
to  recover  them. 

Another  Pharisaic  maxim  is  :  Great  changes  in  re- 
ligious character  are  always  to  be  regarded  with  sus- 
picion, and  treated  with  contempt  or  indifference  ;  and 
all  labors  for  that  end  that  are  really  serious  and  zealous, 
are  to  be  regarded  in  the  same  light. 

Another  and  kindred  maxim  is :  Men  are  to  be 
treated  here,  in  all  respects,  according  to  their  deserts. 
This  was  the  principle  by  which  Christ's  enemies  aimed 
to  destroy  his  influence.  If  he  were  a  good  man  and  a 
true  prophet,  he  would  associate  with  u?  familiarly,  and 
show  to  the  world  how  highly  he  esteemed  us,  while  he 


THE    LOST    SILVER    AND    TUE    LOST    SHEEP.  41 

would  treat  these  wretched  publicans  and  sinners  just 
as  we  do. 

We  then  proceed  to  contrast  with  these  views  the 
grace  of  the  Gospel,  and  thus, 

m.    YeSTDICATE  THE  MERCY  OF  GoD. 

In  these  parables  a  direct  appeal  is  made  to  human 
feelings  and  actions.  Assuming  an  analogy  between 
the  lost  soul  of  man  and  the  lost  money  and  sheep,  it 
lodges  its  appeal  in  the  human  heart.  There  is  no  for- 
mal argument,  but  that  direct  address  which  finds  its 
way  to  the  hearts  of  the  candid.  And  yet,  as  in  every 
work  of  God,  however  simple  to  the  view  of  the  sim- 
ple, there  is  underlying,  a  principle  deep  and  broad 
as  the  universe,  enduring  as  eternity.  Let  us  examine 
then, 

1,  Gocfs  compassion  for  man  demands  from  rnaoi 
the  most  interested  attention,  the  m^ost  profound  rever- 
ence, and  the  most  lively  gratitude.  Man  is  the  crown 
of  all  God's  terrestrial  works,  whether  you  consider  his 
body  or  his  spirit.  Therefore,  "the  proper  study  of 
mankind  is  man."  It  matters  not  in  what  condition 
of  social  life  you  find  him,  he  is  still  a  man,  the  crown- 
ing work  of  his  Maker.  It  matters  not  in  what  condi- 
tion you  find  his  body,  it  never  can  be  worthy  of  your 
contempt.  There  are  many  things  that  make  it  majes- 
tic In  its  ruins.  Tlie  temples  of  Athens,  of  Thebes,  and 
of  Palmyi-a,  are  only  ruins ;  yet,  what  ruins  !  He  is 
not  a  man  who  can  look  on  them  with  indifi'erence. 
Find  the  human  body  deformed,  defiled,  defaced ;  yet 
there  is  in  it  what  angels  revere.  And  yet  there  is  to 
human  apprehension  an  infinite  chasm  between  the 
body  and  the  spirit  that  inhabits  it.     See  you  yonder 


42  LECTlJfiE    III. 

planet  called  Saturn,  girded  and  guarded  witli  his 
mighty  zone  of  light ;  yon  are  struck  with  awe  at  his 
massive  grandeur,  his  glorious  light,  his  kingly  gait 
amid  the  luminaries  of  heaven.  And  yet  he  but  waits 
in  lowly  ministry  on  this  poor  soul  of  man.  Science  is 
grand  in  its  explorations,  its  achievements,  its  spoils. 
But  when  they  are  all  accomjjlished,  they  are  laid  at 
the  feet  of  this  viceroy  of  the  Eternal.  History  is  sub- 
lime in  its  profound  and  comprehensive  view ;  and  yet  it 
is  only  the  record  of  man,  and  of  God's  going  forth  with 
man.  Holy  angels  come  down  in  chariots  of  fire  ;  but 
it  is  not  to  despise  or  overlook,  not  to  rule  nor  to  exact 
homage  from  man.  It  is  only  to  minister  to  the  heirs 
of  salvation.  They  come  in  mighty  troops  that  make 
the  welkin  tremble  at  their  tread ;  but  it  is  only  to 
encamp  around  the  little  ones  that  fear  the  Lord. 

Now  the  object  of  that  divine  compassion,  on  which 
some  men  look  with  indifference,  and  others  with  con- 
tempt, is  man  in  ruins.  The  silver  is  lost,  the  sheep  is 
wandering,  the  prodigal  is  perishing.  This,  we  affirm, 
is  the  most  momentous  reality  on  earth  ;  the  most  wor- 
thy of  man's  attention.  And  no  inquiry  should  be 
more  earnestly  pressed  by  the  children  of  men  than 
this  :  how  does  God  regard  fallen  man  ?  The  human 
body  is  the  prey  of  disease,  the  victim  of  death,  the 
captive  of  the  sepulchre  and  all  its  horrid  ministry  of 
corruption  and  darkness ;  the  human  soul  is  the  slave 
of  Satan,  the  theatre  of  anarchy  and  rebellion,  the  vic- 
tim of  sin,  the  sepulchre  of  love  and  hope  for  ever ! 
Yes,  man  in  the  pride  of  his  wealth  is  but  tampering 
with  the  diseases  that  hasten  liis  loathsome  putrefaction  ; 
man,  in  the  glory  of  his  power  is  but  a  boasting  lunatic, 
who  clanks  his  chains  and  fancies  they  are  a  scej^tre. 


THE    LOST    SILVEK   AND  THE    LOST    SHEEP.  43 

Man,  in  the  pride  of  his  researches  and  attainments  is 
overlooking  himself,  his  misery,  his  guilt,  his  hastening 
ruin.  But  God  has  compassion  on  him,  and  has  come 
to  save  him.  Amid  all  the  operations  of  the  Deity,  we 
then  know  none  so  worthy  of  our  admiration  as  the 
manifestation  of  his  compassion  for  man  as  apostate 
and  ruined.  ISTo  matter  in  what  form  exhibited,  or 
where  contemplated,  that  comj)assion  should  inspire 
the  most  eager  desire  to  behold  and  study  it.  "  Herein 
is  love  ;  not  that  we  love  God,  but  that  he  loved  us." 
To  see  Deity  at  all  is  a  privilege  of  the  most  exalted 
kind.  But  to  be  permitted  to  see  the  actual  move- 
ments of  divine  compassion  toward  fallen  man,  in  an 
instance  before  our  very  eyes,  this  is  a  privilege  to  be 
prized  above  all  worldly  good  and  honor. 

But  it  claims  more  than  mere  attention.  The  Gos- 
pel should  be  regarded  with  the  profoundest  reverence  ; 
for,  it  shows  the  awful  conflict  between  light  and  dark- 
ness ;  good  and  evil ;  heaven  and  hell !  whose  battle 
ground  is  your  heart  and  mine.  They  have  no  other  in 
the  universe  than  the  human  heart.  Though  it  be 
that  of  the  poor  publican  whom  you  and  your  fellow 
Pharisees  hold  in  such  contempt,  there  is  a  sight  to 
be  gazed  upon  with  the  most  profound  a  ive  and  rever- 
ence. That  poor  man  is  beginning  to  feel  the  galling, 
chain  of  Satan,  and  longs  to  burst  it  asunder.  He 
flies  to  the  Son  of  God.  And  now,  it  is  no  longer 
what  merely  meets  the  eye,' — a  poor  ignorant  man  be- 
coming religious,  and  calling  forth  the  sneei's  of  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  ;  it  is  the  Son  of  the  Highest  combating 
the  Prince  of  Darkness  ;  and  the  prize  for  which  they 
contend  is  the  soul  of  man  ! 

And  as  you  follow  the  process  through  its  several 


4A  LECTURE  ni. 

stages,  and  behold  the  divine  condescension,  the  sacri- 
fices and  sorrows  to  which  the  Son  of  God  must  submit, 
in  order  to  accomplish  this  rescue,  you  find  ample  occa- 
sion to  wrap  your  mantle  about  your  face  and  trem- 
blingly adore.  The  poor  shepherd  seeking  his  sheep 
shall  be  to  you  an  emblem  of  divine  tenderness ;  the 
humble  cottager  searching  for  her  silver  with  sucli 
diligence  and  painstaking — of  the  divine  earnestness. 
And  looking  on  either,  your  soul  must  be  filled  with 
reverence.  I^ay,  more — with  gratitude  and  sympathy. 
The  sheep  is  an  animal  easily  bewildered,  fatigued, 
afifrighted  and  vanquished.  If  it  wanders,  it  must  be 
brought  back  by  the  shepherd's  care.  He  must  care 
for  it,  go  for  it,  take  it,  and  bear  it  back  to  its  fold,  and 
there  defend  and  nourish  it.  What  an  emblem  of  man 
as  liable  to  sin,  as  helpless  when  he  has  wandered  from 
God  !  Want,  peril,  helplessness  ;  this  is  the  true  pic- 
ture of  man's  spiritual  condition  as  divine  compassion 
beholds  him,  and  comes  to  his  rescue.  Sin  is  a  wan- 
dering from  God  ;  when  we  begin,  we  go  on  without 
return,  we  go  on  to  ruin  without  the  possibility  of  self- 
recovery.  Sin  is  the  perversion  of  all  our  natural 
230wers,  and  the  derangement  of  all  our  natural  rela- 
tions to  God  and  the  universe.  Self  has  become  the 
idol  of  our  being ;  in  self,  for  self,  and  by  self  we  at- 
tempt to  live.  Oh  !  how  deplorable,  how  fearful ;  and 
that  we  should  gild  it  over  with  fair  names  and  fair 
seemings,  and  a  perpetual  smile  !  There  is  not  an 
attribute  in  God  to  plead  for  us  but  Compassion.  Jus- 
tice is  armed  for  our  destruction.  "  Let  him  alone  ;  he 
is  joined  to  idols"  is  its  natural,  stern,  but  righteous 
decision.  And  now  our  Creator  has  loved  us  in  this 
miserable  state.     Jesus  is  the  good  Shepherd ;  and  it 


THE   LOST    SILVER    AND    THE    LOST    SHEEP.  45 

is  on  his  feelings  and  bis  sacrifices,  his  labors  and  his 
success,  that  we  are  called  to  look  with  sympathy  and 
gratitude  ;  for  this  ruin  is  our  common  lot.  You  can- 
not select  out  any,  however  degraded,  and  say — they 
needed  this,  but  we  do  not.  Nor  can  you,  on  the  other 
hand  say — this  is  for  us,  and  not  for  them. 

But  this  is  merely  a  partial  view  of  the  subject,  to 
look  on  man  as  ruined  by  sin,  and  on  the  divine  com- 
passion moved  by  the  sight  of  this  ruin.  Divine  love 
went  infinitely  beyond  mere  feeling.  It  came  forth  in 
acts  of  infinite  kindness  and  condescension.  We  there- 
fore notice  that, 

2.  GocTs  desire^  purj)ose,  and  efforts  to  save  men  are 
holy,  jicst,  and  good.  ISTow  we  contemplate  the  positive 
side  of  the  subject,  God's  compassion  coming  forth  to 
deliver  him  from  deserved  and  coming  destruction,  and 
also  to  bring  him  to  the  likeness  of  God,  the  presence 
of  God,  and  the  society  of  God  for  ever. 

Fallen  Tnan  can  he  raised  so  high.  This  is  abun- 
dantly set  forth  in  the  Scriptures.  Regenerated  men 
are  called  sons  of  God  ;  said  to  have  been  re-created  in 
the  likeness  of  Christ.  The  Father  and  the  Son  come 
and  dwell  with  them.  Tlie  Holy  Spirit  makes  their 
bodies  and  spirits  temples.  Tliey  will  be  taken  to  be- 
hold him  without  an  obscuring  veil ;  to  be  with  him 
for  ever.  This  was  true  of  Abraham,  of  Manasseh,  of 
the  penitent  woman,  the  dying  thief,  and  some  of  the 
mui'derers  of  Christ.  It  is  true,  we  believe,  of  many 
of  the  paricidal  and  cannibal  savages  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean ;  of  the  profane  Bunyan  ;  of  the  profligate 
Colonel  Gardiner  and  Earl  of  Rochester. 

This  is  glorious  as  an  achievement ;  to  see  them 
washed  from  their  sins,  clothed  in  the  righteousness  of 


46  LECTURE   ni. 

God,  raised  to  the  society  of  heaven,  and  dwelling  in 
light  for  ever  as  the  sons  of  light.  And  the  mode  of  it 
is  excellent  and  glorious.  It  injures  no  right  or  prin- 
ciple. Men  have  thoiight  they  were  wise  in  asking 
whether  'God  appeased  himself  by  an  atonement.  But 
could  they  not  see  that  the  guardian  of  rights  and 
sacred  interests  may  do  something  in  reference  to  a 
princij)le  ?  A  sovereign  may  extend  clemency  to 
criminals  ;  but  be  very  careful  that  the  mode  of  doing 
it  shall  express  his  approbation  of  law  and  government, 
and  reveal  the  sterner  attributes  of  his  nature,  while  he 
is  giving  scope  to  the  gentler.  This  Jehovah  has  fully 
done  in  his  method  of  saving  sinners.  And  the  wisei 
men  grow,  the  more  fully  will  they  discover  the  deep 
and  holy  meaning  of  the  cross  ;  and  that  Christ  "  ought 
to  suffer  these  things,"  if  man  is  to  be  saved.  All 
Pharisees  want  mere  law  to  prevail.  Thinking  they 
can  stand  by  law,  they  are  unwilling  to  see  Mercy 
come  in  and  lay  her  broad  plans,  take  this  world  under 
her  governance,  erect  the  cross,  and  then  invite  pub- 
licans and  sinners  to  come  and  be  saved  on  the  same 
terms  as  Pharisees  and  Scribes.  Christ  never  invited 
the  wicked  to  come  to  him,  that  their  vices  and  follies 
might  be  sanctioned  ;  but  because  he  loved  them,  and 
would  save  them  from  their  sins. 

This  way  of  recovery  then  gives  scope  to  God's  most 
amiable  attributes,  throws  a  bright  beam  of  hope  over 
the  miserable  path  of  man  struggling  and  staggering  to 
the  grave. 

This  way  of  recovery  is  to  bring  a  revenue  of 
glory  to  the  Most  High,  while  it  enhances  immeas- 
urably the  blessedness  of  the  universe. 

Nor  could  the  salvation  of  a  sinner,  whether  publi- 


THE    LOST    SILVER    AIS^D    THE    LOST    SHEEP.  47 

can  or  Pharisee,  be  accomplished  in  any  other  way. 
There  is  no  waste  of  power,  no  vain  parade  of  sympa- 
thy, no  exti'avagant  utterance  of  feeling,  no  needless 
suifering  ;  Christ  is  the  good  Shepherd  wdio  misses  the 
sheep  from  his  fold,  seeks  it  as  he  did  Matthew,  the 
Samaritan  woman,  and  Saul  of  Tarsus  ;  finds  it,  bears 
it  on  his  shoulder,  and  brings  it,  rejoicing,  to  his  fold. 

Tlie  vindication  of  God's  mercy  against  Saducean 
indifference  and  Pharisaic  contempt,  is  then  not  only 
an  appeal  to  the  human  heart,  but  also  to  the  moral 
judgment  of  the  universe,  and  to  all  its  better  feelings. 

Looked  at  in  itself,  how  base  is  man's  indiflerence 
to  God's  merciful  intentions  !  We  are  in  a  common 
condemnation  and  ruin.  Whether  then  it  is  in  refer- 
ence to  our  fellow-men  or  ourselves,  can  any  thing  be 
more  unworthy  of  our  manhood  than  a  cold  indif- 
ference ?  We  deem  it  noble  to  be  stirred  with  patriotic 
zeal  for  our  country's  good.  We  deem  it  noble  in 
Howard  to  visit  all  the  prisons  of  Europe,  that  he 
might  alleviate  the  misery  of  their  wi-etched  inmates. 
We  follow  with  intense  sympathy  the  successive  steps 
of  some  suffering  hero  in  a  purely  fictitious  tale ;  but 
when  we  come  to  the  contemplation  of  the  moral  degra- 
dation of  an  entire  race,  nay,  of  their  endless  ruin,  a 
strange  stupidity  comes  over  us  !  Oh  !  this  fact  is 
enough  to  make  the  world  serious  ;  this  fact  is  enough 
to  abase  man's  self-conceit,  and  show  him  that  some- 
thing is  fearfully  out  of  order  in  his  mental  frame. 

But  when  to  this  we  add  the  interest  felt  by  other 
beings,  then  its  horribleness  appears  more  vividly.  God 
and  angels  are  happy  without  us  ;  happy,  if  we  per- 
severe in  rebellion,  and  die.     Yet  they  look  upon  our 


48  LECTURE    III. 

state,  not  with  complacency  but  witli  pity,  intense 
pity.  And  not  only  are  tliey  disinterested  parties, 
but  tliey  are  so  exalted.  God  and  his  angels  looking 
with  intensest  interest  upon  man's  religious  feelings, 
and  his  action  in  reference  to  the  salvation  of  his  soul ; 
but  man  himself  indifferent ! 

Nay,  more, — while  God  is  smiling  in  paternal  de- 
light over  the  return  of  the  prodigal  son,  his  elder 
brother  in  the  Pharisaic  pride  of  his  heart,  looks  on 
with  contempt  and  hatred.  This  is  the  climax  of  human 
wickedness.  God  has  come,  in  the  person  of  his  Son, 
to  save  a  lost  soul.  The  Good  Shepherd  has  found  the 
lost  sheep,  and  is  bringing  it  home  upon  his  shoulders 
with  joy ; — all  heaven  is  moved  with  joy,  that  the 
wanderer  has  been  found  and  is  restored.  But  the 
Pharisee  sits  there  smiling  at  the  absurdity  of  the  whole 
movement !  Tliis  is  about  the  feeling  of  many  in  our 
days  when  they  hear  of  a  revival  of  religion,  of  the 
conversion  of  a  sinner.  These  parables  were  designed 
to  reveal  them  to  themselves. 

The  religion  of  Christ  is  the  religion  for  sinners 
who  would  escape  from  sin.  And  what  have  reason- 
able men  of  the  world  to  say  in  defence  of  their  own 
indifference  or  contempt  toward  this  most  momentous 
of  all  events  in  human  life  ;  the  return  of  a  wandering 
soul  to  Christ,  its  "  Shej)herd  and  Bishop  ?  "  Are  they 
wiser  and  better  than  the  angels  ;  is  their  mirth  and 
loy  more  rational,  more  dignified,  more  worthy  of  in- 
telligent beings  than  this  joy  of  angels  and  saints  ? 

Come,  fellow-men,  let  us  reason  together.  What 
have  you  to  say  ?  "  There  is  so  much  fanaticism  in  the 
world."  That  is  true.  But  counterfeit  money  does  not 
destroy  the  value  of  that  which  is  genuine.     Tliere  are 


THE    LOST    SILVEK    AJSfD   THE    LOST    SHEEP.  49 

fanatical  admirers  of  nature ;  but  it  does  not  justify  you 
in  contempt  for  her  real  beauties,  I  grant  that  the  ex- 
istence of  pretended  conversions  and  spurious  revivals 
justifies  every  one  in  exercising  caution ;  but  not,  indif- 
ference or  contempt.  Have  you  never  rejoiced  with 
the  angels  of  God  over  one  conversion  ?  Then  is  it 
because  there  never  has  been  one  in  your  day  ?  Or,  is 
it  not  that  you  are  not  with  the  angels  and  the  God  of 
mercy,  but  with  the  Pharisees  ?  Perhaps  you  say : 
"  There  is  so  much  uncertainty  about  their  perse- 
vering." Alas !  is  that  your  uniform  rule  of  action  ? 
Then  you  are  leading  a  sad  life  ;  you  never  rejoiced  at 
the  birth  of  a  child,  for  it  might  not  live  long ;  you 
never  rejoiced  at  its  first  sweet  lisj^ings,  because  it 
might  by  and  by  learn  to  speak  unkind  words ;  you 
never  rejoiced  in  its  bright  beaming  countenance,  be- 
cause it  might  die  that  very  day  ;  you  never  were  made 
glad  by  its  success  in  study,  because  it  might  never  put 
that  knowledge  to  good  account,  l^ow,  I  can  conceive 
of  a  man  acting  on  this  principle  ;  but  I  never  heard 
of  one  that  did.  And  until  I  do,  I  shall  think  you  have 
not  rendered  the  true  reason  for  your  indifference  or  con- 
tempt for  the  various  exercises  of  God's  renewing  grace 
toward  sinful  man. 

Here  is  great  encom'agement  for  all  who  are  con- 
scious of  apostasy  from  God,  to  return.  Their  main 
difliculty,  after  the  sincerely  formed  purpose  to  return 
to  him,  is,  the  doubt  about  his  sympathy.  How  can 
they  approach  that  awful  presence,  and  ask  for  forgive- 
ness and  a  restoration  of  the  divine  favor,  if  they  have 
no  assurance  that  his  own  kindness  will  plead  their 
cause  ?  Tliey  cannot  stand  before  his  fi'own. 
3 


50  LECTUEE   III. 

Then  what  more  could  they  ask  than  these  para- 
bles ?  It  is  not  merely  that  God  may  j)ossibly  permit 
them  to  approach,  which  was  all  the  encouragement 
Esther  had  in  approaching  her  sovereign.  But  he  has 
taken  the  first  steps  towards  them.  He  has  a  father's 
heart,  a  shepherd's  heart.  They  are  precious  to  him, 
though  lost  at  present.  They  are  precious  as  the  lost 
sheej),  the  lost  silver,  the  lost  son.  And  if  they  will 
return,  not  only  will  they  be  welcome,  but  there  will 
be  in  their  Father's  house  the  peculiar  joy  which  is  oc- 
casioned by  the  recovery  of  any  thing  lost.  Try  to 
understand  this  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth.  Regard  not  the  indifference,  the  frowns  or 
the  contempt  of  Pharisaic  sinners.  A  lost  dog  would 
cause  its  owner  sadness  ;  a  lost  child  greater  sadness ; 
and  a  recovered  child  fills  a  neighborhood  with  joy. 


• 


LECTUKE  IV. 

THE  TRUE  VINE;   OR,  A  LIVING  FAITH  UNITES  TO  CHRIST. 

John  xv.  1-6.  "  I  am  the  true  vine,  and  my  Father  is  the  husband- 
man. Every  branch  in  me  that  beareth  not  fraifc  he  taketh  away:  and 
every  branch  that  beareth  fruit,  he  purgeth  it,  that  it  may  bring  forth  more 
fruit.  Now  ye  are  clean  through  the  word  which  I  have  spoken  unto  you. 
Abide  in  me,  and  I  in  you.  As  the  brajich  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  ex- 
cept it  abide  in  the  vine  ;  no  more  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  me.  I  am 
the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches.  He  that  abideth  in  me,  and  I  in  him,  the 
same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit ;  for  without  me  ye  can  do  nothino-.  If  a 
man  abide  not  in  me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  is  withered ;  and 
men  gather  them,  and  cast  them  into  the  fire,  and  they  are  burned." 

■**  There  are  two  kinds  of  connection  between  the 
brandies  and  the  vine.  T]ie  one  is  visible  and  super- 
ficial ;  the  other  is  invisible  and  vital.  The  Saviour 
furnishes  under  this  symbolical  fact  very  important 
instruction  concerning  a  pretended  union,  and  a  real 
connection  with  him  by  faith.  The  visible  part  of  a 
real  and  a  false  union  with  him  is  membershi])  in  the 
Church ;  be  it  the  truest  and  the  purest  of  all  that 
claim  to  be  churches  of  Christ.  And  concerning  mere 
membership  in  the  Church,  without  faith  in  him,  he 
gives  both  a  rule  for  determining  its  existence  and  a 
prediction  of  its  consequences.  It  may  be  known  by 
that  fact  that  it  is  fruitless.     Like  the  bark  of  a  branch 


&2  LECTUKE    IV. 

tliat  has  no  vital  connection  witli  the  sap-vessels  of  the 
trunk,  and  yet  appears  to  belong  to  it,  so  a  profession 
of  piety  puts  us  in  the  Church ;  but  something  else  is 
needed  to  our  being  found  in  Christ.  And  as  the 
branch  so  situated  cannot  bring  forth  fruit,  so  the  un- 
ueiieving  member  of  the  Church  may  be  known  by 
his  unfruitfulness  in  religion.  And  the  destiny  of  that 
person  is  an  ultimate  separation,  even  externally  from 
Christ,  and  a  ruin  as  complete  as  that  of  a  dead  branch 
that  is  cast  into  the  fire. 

But  there  is  likewise  a  vital  union  with  Christ ;  and 
on  that  our  Lord  here  chiefly  remarks.  TVe  shall  now 
contemplate  its  nature  and  its  history. 

I.  The  nature  of  the  union  between  Cheist  and 

THE  SOUIi  THAT  TEUSTS  ALONE  IN  HIM. 

It  is  a  vital  union;  and,  on  our  part,  an  inthiiate 
dependence  mutually  recognized.  What  in  nature  is 
more  vital  and  intimate  than  the  connection  of  a  branch 
with  its  vine  ?  In  grace  it  is  still  more  intimate  and 
more  enduring.  We  notice  then  in  this  spiritual  union 
these  qualities  to  be  prominent :  it  is  intimate,  invalu- 
able, and  enduring. 

1.  It  is  an  intimate  union.  Think  of  the  connection 
of  a  branch  with  its  vine.  The  fibres  of  the  one  are 
almost  identical  with  those  of  the  oiner ;  their  sap- 
vessels  are  so  perfectly  adapted  to  each  other,  and 
so  adjusted,  that  the  communication  of  life,  strength, 
and  fruitfulness  from  the  trunk,  is  unobstructed  and 
constant.  The  root  takes  strong  hold  of  the  earth,  and 
draws  nourishment  from  it,  to  be  poured  through  the 
entire  length,  and  to  the  smallest  extremity  of  the 
branch.     Such  is  the  believer's  relation  to  Clnist.     He 


THE    TKUE    VINE.  53 

calls  tlio  Church  his  body  ;  himself  its  hecid  ;  a  nation, 
of  which  he  is  the  King  ;  a  wife,  whose  husband  he  is  ; 
a  familj,  of  wliich  he  is  the  father ;  a  flock,  of  which 
he  is  the  shepherd.     In  the  Sth  Psalm,  man  is  spoken 
of  as  made  inferior  to  the  angels,  and  jet  over  all  other 
terrestrial  beings.     In  the  epistle  fo  the  Hebrews,  that 
passage  is  qnoted,  without  doing  it  any  violence,  as  re- 
ferring to  Christ.     lie  is  bone  of  our  bone ;  and  thus, 
allied  to  the  race.     But  it  is  not  this  that  secures  the 
spiritual  union  here  referred  to.     His  incarnation  gave 
him  a  peculiar  natural  relation  to  the  human  race. 
But  this  spiritual  relation  is  not  established  in  any 
individual  case,   except   by  the   exercise  of  personal 
faith.      ISTeither  human  birth,  nor  Jewish  birth,  nor 
visible  connection  with  the  Cnurch,  avails  without  per- 
sonal faith  ;  that  faith  which  includes  on  our  part  su- 
preme preference,  profoundest  reliance,  entire  conse- 
cration ;   which  secures   a   complete  identification  of 
feelings,   desires,  interests  and  honor ;    a  communion 
most  earnest  and  intimate,  a  constant  interchange  of 
feelings,  a  constant  imparting  and  receiving  of  grace 
from  him,  and  gratitude  from  us.     There  is  nowhere 
else  communion  like  this.      And  with  this  intimacy 
of  connection  and  communion  there  is  also  a  moral 
identification  before  God  and  the  universe.     These  are 
some  of  its  efifects  ;  our  sins  are  reckoned  to  him,  his 
righteousness  is  imputed  to  us  ;  as  we  see  in  the  decla- 
ration— "  he  was  made  sin  for  us,  that  we  might  be 
made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him."     Our  praying 
is  accepted  through  him  ;  our  persons  are  so  viewed  in 
connection  with  him,  that  we  are  said  to  be  "  accepted 
in  the  beloved."     If  any  one  injures  a  believer,  he 
wounds  Christ ',  if  he  gives  him  a  cup  of  cold  water, 


54  LECTURE   IV. 

Christ  considers  it  given  to  himself.  "We  enter  into  his 
rights,  his  victories,  and  the  glorious  results  of  his  re- 
demptive acts.  The  law  is  for  us  answered  by  his  obe- 
dience and  suffering.  Satan  is  conquered,  the  world  is 
conquered,  death  is  conquered,  heaven  is  claimed  by 
him  for  us. 

In  view  of  this  statement,  which  is  but  the  conden- 
sation of  a  hundred  declarations  of  the  Scriptures,  it  is 
easy  to  see  that, 

2.  This  is  a  most  im^jortant  union  for  us.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  Jesus  gave  this  beautiful  emblem 
of  his  relations  to  believers,  just  as  he  was  about  to 
take  leave  of  his  beloved  disciples.  The  topic  of  his 
address  was — the  tender  and  permanent  bond  that 
united  them  to  him ;  permanent,  even  when  his  body 
should  be  no  longer  upon  the  earth.  And  to  impress 
it  deeply  on  their  minds,  he  gives  them  the  vine  for 
ever  to  be  its  most  instructive  and  graceful  emblem. 
And  I  cannot  omit  remarking,  by  the  way,  that  no 
higher  proof  of  his  claiming  to  be  God  can  be  given 
than  his  using  this  emblem  under  such  circumstances. 
The  Jews  had  always  been  taught  to  regard  God  him- 
self as  their  only  dependence.  A  curse  was  pronounced 
upon  him  who  should  trust  an  "  arm  of  flesh."  And 
yet  the  Son  of  Mary  here  leads  them  to  regard  him  as 
the  very  fountain  of  their  spiritual  life.  The  grape  vine 
was  one  of  the  most  important  objects  of  agricultural 
interest  to  the  Jews.  It  grew  in  Palestine  to  an 
enormous  size,  and  was  very  productive.  They  ac- 
cordingly considered  sitting  under  their  own  vine  as 
a  clioice  emblem  of  God's  kind  protection.  Herod 
availed  himself  of  this  sentiment  in  the  construction 
of  the  third  temple.     He  caused  a  richly  carved  vine 


THE    TRUE   VINE.  55 

to  be  placed  as  an  ornamental  border  around  and  over 
one  of  the  magnificent  gates  leading  into  tlie  temple. 
The  Jews  always  regarded  the  vine  as  the  most  noble 
of  plants,  and  a  type  of  all  that  was  excellent,  power- 
ful, fruitful,  and  fortunate.  "  The  vine,"  our  Lord 
seems  to  say,  "which  you  so  much  esteem,  is  but  a 
symbol,  a  shadow.  I  am  the  reality  ;  I  am  the  true 
vine.  Do  not  imagine  that  the  heavenly  is  patterned 
after  the  earthly ;  the  earthly  was  made  to  illustrate 
the  heavenly ;  all  earthly  things  are  religious  parables 
to  him  who  has  their  key.  As  a  nation  you  prize  the 
vine ;  as  sinners,  so  should  you  prize  me  above  all  other 
beings  ;  for,  as  the  branch  cannot  live  separated  from 
the  vine,  no  more  can  ye  live  unless  ye  abide  most  in- 
timately and  vitally  in  me." 

This  is  not  then  a  Jewish  truth,  but  a  universal 
truth,  in  which  we  have  as  deep  an  interest  as  John 
and  James  and  Peter. 

In  the  apostasy  man  severed  himself  from  G-od. 
That  separation  is  wide  and  fearful,  to  an  extent  which 
nothing  shows  us  so  clearly  as  the  wonderful  provision 
God  has  made  to  re-establish  that  union,  that  his  taber- 
nacle may  indeed  be  with  man,  and  we  in  Him,  and 
He  in  us.  Once  His  sacred  temple  was  in  the  human 
heart.  On  the  altar  of  its  affections  burned  the  pure 
fire  of  holy  love.  From  around  it,  arose  the  incense 
of  praise  ;  which  the  tongue,  the  glorious  priest  uplifted 
toward  the  throne  of  his  glory.  Within  the  walls  of 
this  immortal  temple  the  manifested  Deity  shed  its  mild 
glory  ;  and  the  Creator  communed  with  his  creature. 

Does  it  not  make  you  sad  to  go  around  the  ruins  of 
some  noble  palace,  and  reflect  on  the  glory  and  royalty 
which  once  dwelt  there ;  on  the  noble  spirits  whose 


56  LECTURE   IV. 

power  once  swayed  the  sceptre  of  empires ;  the  bril- 
liant minds  that  once  around  the  throne  outshone  the 
brightness  of  the  very  jewels  of  the  crown  ?  But  now,  a 
rude  mass  of  stones  alone  remains,  and  silence  has 
stretched  in  undisputed  sway,  her  leaden  sceptre  over 
the  spot  where  the  power  and  energy  of  an  empire  were 
once  concentrated.  It  is  sad.  But  oh  !  it  is  a  sadder 
sight  to  see  this  temple  in  ruins  ;  this  palace  deserted 
of  its  king !  Once,  God  reigned  in  man,  communed 
with  man.  Man  was  made  for  that ;  and  his  state  is 
most  unnatural,  until  he  is  restored  to  that. 

Christ  has  come  to  re-establish  that  communion  ;  to 
repair  this  desolate  temple  ;  to  rekindle  those  extin- 
guished fires  ;  to  consecrate  and  purify  by  bloody  sac- 
fices,  the  once  polluted  habitation  of  pride  and  selfish- 
ness. "  In  him  dwelleth  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
bodily.  And  of  his  fulness  have  we  received ;  and 
grace  for  grace."  We  receive  from  him  Life.  If 
there  is  any  life  in  the  vine,  the  healthy  branch  Avill 
partake  of  it ;  the  same  in  kind  and  degree.  "  He  that 
hath  the  Son,  hath  life."  "  If  any  man  eat  me,  even 
he  shall  live  by  me."  "  Your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God."  "  He  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live."  All  men  have  a  vegetable,  an  ani- 
mal, and  a  rational  life.  Only  the  soul  united  thus  to 
Christ  has  spiritual  life.  He  has  the  fourfold  vitality 
of  justification;  sanctification ;  victory  over  sorrow, 
pain  and  death  ;  eternal  life,  or  blessedness  in  heaven. 

And  not  only  is  this  hfe  once  given,  it  is  for  ever 
preserved  and  secured  to  the  believer.  "  Because  I  live, 
ye  shall  live  also." 

See  then  the  inventory  of  blessings  which  this  con- 
nection produces.     We  live  before  the  law  ;  before  an 


THE   TJRUE   VINE.  57 

enligli toned  conscience  ;  before  a  righteous  Judge,  who 
pronounces  us  guilty,  but  forgiven.  We  live  in  sweet 
communion  with  our  Maker  and  Saviour,  and  with  all 
his  saints.  We  live  upon  the  Truth  that  has  nourished 
all  who  have  entered  into  heaven.  "We  have  the  Sj)irit 
of  Christ ;  the  spirit  of  adoption  ;  of  prayer,  of  praise. 
AVe  thus  bring  forth  the  fruits  of  righteousness  and  be- 
neficence ;  the  fruits  that  honor  God,  and  bless  men. 
Tlie  human  nature  of  Christ  was  as  really  inadequate 
of  itself  to  do  the  work  of  redemption,  as  we  are.  But 
he,  as  a  man,  had  the  Spirit  without  measure,  to  fit  him 
for  his  work.  That  Spirit  becomes  equally  the  strength 
of  every  one  united  to  Christ  by  faith.  The  ]30wer  of 
evil  is  so  identified  with  human  nature,  that  no  man  can 
overcome  it  but  by  union  with  Christ.  His  Father  is 
the  vine-dresser.  He  skilfully  and  kindly  prunes  every 
fruit-bearing  branch.  Then  our  afflictions  are  the  prun- 
ing-knife  ;  and  turn  to  the  best  account.  "We  share 
Christ's  sufi'erings  and  reproach  now,  and  shall  share  his 
glory  hereafter.  He  is  not  now,  and  never  will  be, 
"ashamed  to  call  them  brethren."  His,  angels  now 
minister  to  us.  He  now  reigns,  in  our  nature  and  for 
us,  on  heaven's  throne.  His  second  aji]  tearing  will  be, 
as  the  Son  of  Man.  He  will  own  and  welcome  be- 
lievers in  the  day  of  his  triumph  and  coronation.  We 
shall  go  in  with  him,  and  reign  with  him  for  ever ! 

There  surely  is  no  alliance  comparable  to  this  ! 
And  while  it  is  so  blessed,  it  is, 

3.  An  endurhig  alliance  /  the  only  one  formed  in 
this  world.  It  is  indissoluble.  The  permanence  of  our 
faith  is  indeed  an  indispensable  condition  of  the  perma- 
nence of  this  union ;  and  yet,  great  is  the  mystery  of 
godliness ;  when  we  believe,  we  have  an  infinitely  more 


58  LECTUKE   IV. 

secure  ground  of  hope,  of  constancy,  tlian  our  own  con- 
stancy itself.  This  is  a  union  for  eternity.  All  otlier 
unions  must  perish  ;  however  honorable,  precious,  or 
important.     I^ow  we  look  at, 

n.  The  histokt  of  this  mysterious  union. 

1.  The  design  and  the  preparatory  worh  are  alto- 
gether his.  Its  origin  is  in  his  love  to  us.  "  Ye  have 
not  chosen  me,  but  I  have  chosen  you.  The  Son  of 
Man  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost."  It 
is  a  deep  mystery  that  this  human  race  should  have  de- 
parted from  God ;  and,  that  all  harmonious  relations 
should  have  been  either  totally  dissolved,  or  in  process 
of  dissolution.  It  seems  difficult  to  make  men  realize 
this  truth.  But,  it  is  true,  and  one  of  the  greatest 
truths.  Man  has  voluntarily  departed  from  God  ;  and^ 
the  Son  of  God  has  voluntarily  come  to  restore  us  to 
union,  and  to  secure  that  union  beyond  any  future  in- 
vasion. 

To  effect  this  end,  all  the  mechanism  of  the  world, 
and  all  the  powers  of  Providence  have  been  in  opera- 
tion. From  him  proceeds  the  promised  Spirit,  who  pro- 
motes and  completes  it.  He  constructs  all  the  material 
world,  all  social  life,  with  reference  to  this  end.  He 
sends  his  "Word,  and  his  messengers  to  utter  it ;  by 
which  the  conscience  is  enlightened,  and  awakened,  the 
sense  of  spiritual  want  is  awakened,  and  the  soul  led  to 
Christ.  And  we  should  not  contemplate  this  work  of 
divine  mercy,  without  recalling  what  it  costs  him  who 
executed  it. 

Condescension,  sacrifice  and  effort,  have  prepared 
the  way  of  our  reconciliation  with  God.  His  only  be» 
gotten  Son  has  showed  from  the  beginning  a  deep  in- 


THE    TRUE    \i:SK.  59 

terest  in  our  race  ;  appearing-  often  of  old,  in  various 
visible  forms  to  bis  j)eople.  Bat  be  at  lengtb  became 
incarnate.  Tbe  Lord  of  glory  must  become  man,  and 
fully  unite  bimself  witb  liuman  nature,  tliat  fallen  man 
may  be  re-united  to  God.  jSTo  otber  band  can  lay  bold 
upon  man,  to  lift  bim  up.  Otber  eyes  may  bave  looked 
witb  pity  on  bis  wretcbed  estate  ;  but  in  vain.  And  be 
could  not  save  us  but  by  becoming  one  of  us.  Tbis 
was  typified  of  old  in  tbe  Goel,  or  Redeemer.  He  must 
be  tbe  "next  of  kin"  to  tbe  redeemed.  And  to  tbat 
tbe  Son  of  tbe  Higbest  condescended. 

In  a  previous  parable  be  bad  compared  bimself  to 
tbe  sbepberd.  But  bere  be  advances  far  beyond  tbat. 
Tbe  sbepberd  is  not  of  tbe  nature  nor  rank  of  bis  flock ; 
but  tbe  vine  is  identical  witb  its  brancbes,  in  structure 
and  in  life. 

2.  This  union  becomes  personal,  then,  hy  our  own 
'Gohmiary  action.  Tbe  coming  of  tbe  Son  of  God  into 
our  world  was  tbe  greatest  event  of  time.  ISText  to  it  to 
eacb  of  us  personally,  is  oui-  own  act  of  entering  into 
personal  unioc  witb  bim,  by  faitb.  Tbus  is  botb  tbe 
formation  of  tbis  relation  and  its  continuance  voluntary, 
on  botb  sides.  Cbrist  cbooses  us,  and  we  cboose  bim. 
But  it  is  not  effected  witbout  cost  on  our  part.  It  is, 
generally,  tbe  most  difficult  act  in  a  buman  life,  in  some 
stage  of  it.  It  is  a  boly  union  witb  a  boly  person,  to  a 
boly  end,  by  a  wicked  being.  It  is  a  union  of  utter  de- 
pendence, to  be  entered  into  by  a  proud  being.  Some- 
times tbe  struggle  begins  witb  tbe  recognition  of  our 
need  of  sucb  an  atonement,  sucb  a  cbange  of  beart ; 
Bomel  imes,  witb  renouncing  our  own  will,  or  our  cbosen 
objects  of  affection  and  pursuit.  Tbe  struggle  is  witb 
outwm'd  and  witb  internal  obstacles.     Tbere  is  a  pain- 


60  LEOTUKE    IV. 

fill  work  of  detacliment,  and  an  equally  difficult  work 
of  attachment ! 

And  it  may  be  added,  that  after  the  union  is  formed, 
its  preservation  and  its  effectiveness  depend  on  much 
painstaking  on  his  part,  and  on  ours.  lie  must  exer- 
cise much  forbearance  and  much  skill  in  preserving  us. 
We  must  watch  and  pray,  meditate,  struggle,  resist,  la- 
bor and  concLuer,  by  courage,  by  faith,  by  toil.  "  Abide 
in  me,"  is  the  requirement ;  and  it  involves  much  and 
incessant  earnestness. 

The  bond  that  unites  one  believer  to  another  is  then 
the  most  vital,  noble  and  enduiing  of  any  on  earth.  We 
"  are  one  in  Christ ; "  all  of  us  are  branches,  and  only 
branches.  Some  glory  in  belonging  to  a  particular 
church.  K  they  mean  by  that,  belonging  to  Christ, 
they  state  the  case  awkwardly.  What  is  the  Church  ? 
It  is  the*  mass  of  branches.  But  one  branch  does  not 
live  on  another  as  its  source  of  life.  It  lives  on  the 
trunk  and  root.  It  is  not  belonging  to  any  particular 
church  that  will  continue  after  death  ;  it  is  our  per- 
sonal union  with  Christ.  So  it  may  be  said  of  any  other, 
the  most  honorable  and  agreeable  relation  of  life.  It  is 
not  in  itself  so  noble,  or  so  ennobling ;  and  it  cannot 
be  so  enduring  as  union  with  Christ. 

We  find,  then,  in  this  parable,  a  rebuke  to  the  sec- 
tarian sj)irit.  The  sectarian  sj)irit  is  not  zeal  for  truth, 
nor  attachment  to  the  Gospel,  nor  peculiar  interest  in 
one's  own  section  of  the  Church,  as  many  seem  to  con- 
sider it.  But  it  is  a  magnifying  something  above 
Christ ;  and  regarding  something  as  more  important 
than  union  with  him.     ]^othing  else  is  so  important. 


THE   TKUE    VINE.  61 

And  hence,  if  we  have  evidence  that  another  person 
believes  in  Christ  "  with  the  heart,"  no  matter  in  wliat 
ecclesiastical  connection  he  is,  he  is  a  brother.  We 
may  disagree  with  many  of  liis  views  ;  may  find  it 
necessary  to  contradict  and  refute  them.  But  we  must 
love  him,  and  rejoice  in  him  as  a  living  branch.  Our 
church  may  be  located  on  the  south  side  of  the  trellis- 
w^ork,  and  so  be  better  situated  for  growth  and  fruitful- 
uess  than  his  ;  yet  he  on  the  north  side  is  equally  a 
branch,  growing  on  the  same  trunk,  sustained  by  the 
same  life  as  we. 

"We  must  live  by  faith.  That  is  the  meaning  of  the 
injunction  ;  "  Abide  in  me."  "  The  life  which  I  live  in 
the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God ;  who 
loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me."  Merely  to  know 
and  believe  this  doctrine  of  union  with  Christ,  without 
the  constant  exercise  of  faith,  hardens  and  emboldens 
the  heart  in  disobedience.  Our  growth,  our  comfort, 
and  our  usefulness,  all  depend  on  the  degree  of  faith  we 
have  in  exercise. 

Here  is  power  over  the  world.  "WTiat  are  its  honors 
to  one  who  regards  himself  as  having  eternally  the  glo- 
ries of  the  Son  of  God  !  What  are  its  pleasures  to  him 
who  shares  the  love  of  God  to  his  Son  !  What  are  the 
contempt  and  opposition  of  man  to  him  whom  God  ac- 
cepts in  Christ !  What  is  worldly  wealth  to  one  who 
is  made  "heir  of  God,  and  joint  heir  with  Jesus 
Christ ! " 

Here  is  power  over  the  heart.  Selfishness  cannot 
live  where  faith  in  Christ  is  in  exercise,  any  more  than 
fire  and  water  can  occupy  the  same  space  at  the  same 
time.     Self-interest  is  felt  to  be  out  of  place  when  re- 


62  LECTUKE    IT. 

ceiving  eternal  life  as  a  gift !  Coldness  and  slnggish- 
ness,  and  cowardice,  all  shrink  from  tlie  presence  of 
faith.  Can  the  branch  forget  the  vine?  if  it  could 
speak,  would  it  talk  of  and  to  every  thing  else  but  the 
"vine  ? 

Here  is  power  to  overcome  despondency,  and 
doubt,  and  discouragement.  Have  you  guilt  ?  You 
are  in  Christ ;  and  he  is  "made  unto  us  Eighteousness." 
Have  you  a  wicked  heart  which  overcomes  your  sin- 
cerest,  strongest  endeavors  ?  Say  ;  "  in  the  Lord  have 
I  strength — I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ." 

In  this  subject  we  have  a  glimpse  of  our  Redeem- 
er's glory.  A  grape  vine  is  a  beautiful  object;  some- 
times with  a  majestic  and  towering  trunk;  covered 
wdth  graceful,  and  strong  boughs,  hanging  full  of  their 
drapery  of  leaves,  and  their  rich  clusters  every  where 
purpling  the  dark  foliage  !  How  splendid  must  have 
been  that  artificial  vine,  one  hundred  feet  high,  festoon- 
ing the  temple-gate,  and  covered  with  clustering  grapes 
formed  of  pearls,  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones  !  But 
these  are  not  the  Trite  Vine.  Christ  is  that.  All  the 
graces  of  the  Church  cluster  around  him.  And  so  will 
they  be  seen  for  ever  in  heaven  ! 

Are  you  in  this  Yine  ?  Not,  if  you  are  not  a  sin- 
ner ;  a  great  sinner,  a  condemned  sinner ;  lost,  ruined, 
helpless  ;  not,  if  you  are  depending  on  your  birth,  your 
wealth,  your  character  among  men,  your  talents,  your 
virtues,  your  piety,  your  philanthropy,  or  any  thing  but 
Christ,  as  the  source  of  your  spiritual  life ;  not  if  you 
are  resting  on  youi  connection  with  the  church  ;  not  if 
you  care  for  any  thing  so  much  as  to  be  delivered  from 


THE   TKUE   VINE.  63 

sin  by  Christ ;  not,  if  you  liave  not  distinctly  believed 
iu  liim,  as  entirely  distinct  from  believing  about  him  ; 
not,  if  you  can  live  satisfied  without  prayer,  without 
thoughts  of  Christ,  and  words  about  him,  and  deeds 
that  honor  him,  and  companions  that  love  him. 

But,  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  be  "out  of  Christ."  He 
himself  tells  you  so.  There  is  to  you  then  no  pardon  of 
one  sin  by  your  Judge ;  no  well-grounded  peace.  There 
is  no  communion  with  God,  because  he  says,  "  No  man 
cometh  to  the  Father,  but  by  me."  There  is  no  real, 
permanent  usefulness  ;  for,  he  says,  "  Except  ye  abide 
in  me,  ye  can  do  nothing ;  "  nothing  to  purpose,  nothing 
that  God  will  acknowledge  at  your  hands.  You  can 
have  none  but  the  hope  that  deludes  ;  for,  Christ  says, 
"  If  a  man  abide  not  in  me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch, 
and  is  withered^  and  men  gather  them,  and  cast  them 
into  the  fire,  and  they  are  hurried^ 


LECTURE  Y. 

THE  LEAYEN ;  OE,  PIETY,  INTERNAL  AND  PEOGRESSIVE. 

Matt.  xiii.  33.  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  leaven,  whicL 
a  woman  took,  and  hid  in  three  measures  of  meal,  untU  the  whole  was 
leavened." 

"We  liave  already  considered  tlie  union  of  tlie  soul 
with  Christ,  produced  by  faith.  "We  are  now  led,to  con- 
template, somewhat  in  detail,  the  effects  which  that 
union  with  Christ  produces  on  the  character. 

There  is  a  resemblance,  and  yet  a  difference  between 
this  comparison  and  that  of  the  mustard  seed.  They 
both  contemplate  the  power  and  progress  of  the  Gospel 
as  not  recognized  by  an  imbelieving  world,  jet  as 
mighty ;  transforming  and  assimilating  both  the  heart 
of  man  and  human  society  to  itself.  But  the  mustard 
seed  refers  to  general  and  external  progress ;  the  leaven, 
to  individual  and  internal  progress. 

The  points  here  illustrated  are  these  : — the  human 
heart  needs  a  change  to  fit  it  for  the  service  of  God  and 
the  blessedness  of  heaven,  as  really  and  as  completely 
as  the  mass  of  meal  requires  the  change  to  make  it  into 
bread  ; — the  power  to  produce  that  great  change  is  for- 
eign to  the  heart  itself;  but  its  transforming  operation  is 
Internal  and  invisil)le  ;  and,  finally,  it  is  complete. 


THE   LEAVEN.  65 

Upon  tlie  first,  the  universal  necessity  of  sncli  a 
change,  I  will  not  now  disconrse.  Assuming  that  as  a 
starting  point,  I  call  yonr  attention  to  the  fact  that, 

I.  When  the  nmiAN  heaet  is  kadically  and  ef- 
fectively CHANGED,  IT  IS  BY  A  FOREIGN  POWEK. 

Oiir  Teacher  here  reminds  ns  that  a  woman  does  not 
tind  the  leaven  in  the  meal,  but  brings  it  to  the  meal. 
It  is  a  foreign  agent  bronght  to  supply  a  want  in  the 
material  needing  to  be  changed.  It  is  a  momentous 
inquiry,  whether  man  has  in  himself  all  that  he  needs 
to  secure  his  own  immortal  well-being ;  whether  he 
needs  merely  to  evolve  his  powers  by  a  careful  pro- 
cess, or  is  dependent  uj^on  the  power  of  God,  to  be 
exercised  in  ways  entirely  out  of  his  ordinary  provi- 
dential care  of  his  creatures. 

1.  It  will  he  admitted  that  the  change  is  not  needed^ 
as  a  literal  creation.  I  know  that  the  woi'k  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  called  a  new  creation,  a  crucifixion,  burial  and 
resurrection ;  a  baptism  ;  a  divorce  from  the  law,  and 
an  espousal  to  Christ.  But  there  is  no  question  that 
all  these  are  figurative  descriptions  of  the  great  fact 
we  have  now  under  consideration.  If  it  were  a  literal 
re-creation,  then  personal  identity  would  be  destroyed. 
But  the  regenerated  man  is  conscious  that  he  is  a  new 
man ;  not  in  the  sense  of  being  another  man,  but  a 
radically  altered  man.  There  is  not  a  new  faculty,  but 
a  radical  change  in  the  employment  of  his  faculties. 
At  every  step  of  the  process  he  is  conscious  that  it  is 
be  himself  that  is  undergoing  a  change.  He  has  not  a 
new  conscience,  but  the  old  one  awakened.  Dormant 
sensibilities  are  aroused.  New  thoughts,  new  feelings, 
new  purposes  occupy  the  soul ;  but  they  are  all  in  his 


66  LECTURE    V. 

soul,  the  very  same  lie  always  liad.  This  none  will 
deny  who  believe  in  the  reality  of  regeneration.  But 
some  maintain  notions  which  imply  that  the  change  re- 
quired is  such  as  really  to  make  the  man  so  different  as 
to  have  lost  his  identity.  The  love  he  now  exercises  is 
a  new  faculty  of  love,  a  new  faculty  of  perception,  sen- 
sibility and  will.  This  view  they  maintain  in  order  to 
make  man's  dependence  absolute  ;  to  annihilate  in  the 
natural  man  all  ability  ;  and  with  it,  as  we  believe,  all 
responsibility.  The  analogy  may  not  be  pressed  as  a 
theological  argument ;  yet  it  holds  strictly  true,  that  it 
was  not  the  creation  of  meal,  that  the  leaven  should 
accomplish,  but  simply  its  transformation.  A  believer 
is  not  an  animal  made  into  a  man,  but  a  man  morally 
changed.  They  who  carry  the  point  to  this  extent, 
would  reply  to  all  this  reasoning  from  the  consciousness 
of  the  regenerated,  that  this  change  takes  jjlaces  before 
consciousness.  And  they  think  they  see  it  taught  in 
the  Word.  There  we  must  agree  to  differ ;  for  argu- 
ment would  perhaps  be  of  little  service  on  this  point ; 
and  certainly  out  of  place  here.  And  so  I  return  to  a 
simple  affirmation,  in  order  to  rid  this  subject  of  what  I 
regard  a  fatal  encumbrance  to  it.  The  power  of  God's 
Spirit  is  not  needed  because  of  any  inability  which  im- 
pairs responsibility  or  culpability.  Tlie  Holy  Sj)irit  as 
really  operates  upon  what  is  already  in  the  man  by 
nature,  as  the  leaven  operates  upon  the  meal  as  it  is,  to 
make  it  what  is  desired.  And  yet  man  would  no  more 
change  himself  to  become  what  God  desires,  than  the 
meal  would  make  itself  into  sweet  bread  without  the 
leaven.  The  change  is  a  change  induced  by  a  foreign 
power. 

2.    That  iiower  is  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.     The 


THE    LEAVEN.  67 

paste  which  is  prepared  for  bread,  is  heavy,  tough,  and 
altogether  nniit  for  man's  food.  But  the  penetrating 
power  of  leaven  produces  an  entire  change  in  its  quali- 
ties, as  food.  This  power  over  the  heart  God  chal- 
lenges for  himself,  and  mysteriously  limits  to  the  Holy 
Ghost.  I  say  mysteriously,  because  we  cannot  com- 
jirehend  the  distinction  which  this  name  implies  ;  we 
cannot  comprehend  how  God  aifects  the  human  mind 
in  any  respect,  much  less  how  the  Holy  Spirit  regen- 
erates it.  But  the  Saviom'  taught  ISTicodemus  that  we 
must  be  born  of  the  Spirit ;  that  this  is  indispensable  to 
salvation.  He  promised  his  disciples  that  the  Com- 
forter should  come  after  his  ascension.  And  the  first 
great  baptism  of  the  Spirit  brought  hundreds  to  a  new 
life  of  faith  and  obedience. 

Another  fact  here  included  is, 

3.  The  Gospel  is  the  instrumcni  of  the  Spirit's 
power.  Some  have  carried  their  theorizings  so  far  on 
this  subject,  that  they  atfirm  with  confidence  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  changes  the  heart,  to  prepare  it  for  another 
change  by  the  Truth.  The  first  they  call  regeneration, 
the  other  conversion.  I  can  only  say — they  have  never 
convinced  me  that  they  had  Scripture  for  their  guide 
in  this  opinion.  I  see  then  no  such  distinction  between 
regeneration  and  conversion.  I  see  there  the  Word  of 
God  made  the  great  instrument.  A  heart  is  said  to 
have  been  opened  to  receive  the  truth.  But  will  any 
one  atfirm  that  that  open  heart,  without  any  Gospel 
truth  in  it,  was  a  regenerated  heart  ?  I  am  reluctant 
to  bring  these  distinctions  which  theologians  have 
deemed  of  supreme  im2:)ortance  into  this  place ;  they 
seem  to  me  to  be  so  unprofitable.  And  yet  grave  con- 
sequences do  hang  upon  them  ultimately ;  and  there- 


68  LECTUKE    V. 

fore  sometliing  must  be  said  upon  them.  The  sacred 
writers  and  our  Lord  insist  upon  the  truth  ks  contained 
in  the  Scriptures  being  tlie  great  instrument  of  this 
radical  change,  from  its  first  to  its  final  stage.  "  Faith 
cometh  bj  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  Word  of  God." 
"Whosoever  shall  call  upon  the  name  of  tlie  Lord 
shall  be  saved.  How  then  shall  they  call  on  him  in 
whom  they  have  not  believed  ?  And  how  shall  they 
believe  in  him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard  ?  And 
how  shall  they  hear  without  a  preacher  ?  "  This  ex- 
presses the  relations  of  the  Truth  to  the  first  stage  of 
the  change.  "  Sanctify  them  through  thy  Truth  :  Thy 
w^ord  is  Truth,"  was  the  j^rayer  of  the  liedeemer  for 
his  disciples,  in  whom  the  change  was  already  begun. 
And  when  he  described  the  oj^erations  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  bringing  men  to  repentance  and  faith,  he 
showed  that  the  Truth  is  the  instrument  of  his  power. 
Thus  he  speaks  :  "  And  when  the  Comforter  is  come, 
he  will  convince  the  world  of  sin,  because  they  believe 
not  on  me  ;  of  righteousness,  because  I  go  to  the 
Father."  Yet  all  these  points  to  be  brought  home 
to  the  soul  with  resistless  and  heart-changing  demon- 
stration, are  facts  contained  in  the  Gospel. 

The  leaven  has  a  kind  of  vital  energy,  penetrating 
and  powerful,  imparting  new  qualities  to  the  meal  in 
which  it  has  been  placed.  "  The  law  of  the  Lord  is 
perfect,  converting  the  soul.  The  word  of  the  Lord 
is  quick  and  powerful ;  sharjjer  than  any  two-edged 
sword." 

The  truths  of  the  Scriptures  are  the  most  weighty, 
impressive  and  transforming  of  which  the  human  mind 
can  conceive.  The  difficulty  which  hinders  their  im- 
mediate efficacy  in  the  case  of  every  one  who  iiears 


THE   LEAVEN.  69 

tliein,  is  called  in  the  Scriptures,  unbelief.  It  is  an 
opposite  state  of  purpose,  inclination  and  affection, 
which,  keeps  the  mind  from  so  admitting  the  realities 
they  describe,  as  to  give  them  their  legitimate  sway  over 
the  mind,  heart,  and  will.  The  unregenerate  man  has 
no  fear  about  his  future  condition.  But  just  imagine 
him  to  admit  the  Word  of  God  as  true  to  his  mind. 
He  then  discovers  that  God  is  angry  with  him  ;  that  sin 
is  a  mortal  disease  in  him ;  that  the  judgment-day  is 
hastening ;  that  all  his  life  has  been  sin  ;  and  all  his 
prospect  is  fearful.  But  unbelief  neutralizes  all  these 
truths ;  it  is  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  overcome 
this  neutralizing  power.  He  brings  these  truths  home 
efficiently  to  the  heart.  And  if  you  shrink  from  the 
first  effects  of  these  truths,  because  they  seem  to  make 
you  worse,  as  they  really  affect  you  uncomfortably,  re- 
member that  the  leaven,  though  unpalatable,  produces 
our  most  palatable  and  nutritious  food.  Man  has  not 
then  an  innate,  self-transforming  power.  Where  was, 
for  instance,  in  former  days  the  recuperative  power  of 
Greece  when  Chiist  entered  the  world,  of  Eome,  of 
Jerusalem,  of  human  nature  ?  And  where  is  now  the 
self-recovering  power  of  any  state  or  country  in  which 
this  Word  is  not  now  operating ;  of  India,  Africa,  China, 
or  the  Indian  tribes  of  America  !  Christ  says  :  it  is  his 
Gospel  employed  by  his  Spirit. 

We  now  pass  from  the  agents  of  this  power,  to 
notice  that  in  this  parable. 

II.  TnEIK  OPERATION  IS  SHOWN  TO  BE  PEESON.IE,  IN- 
VISIBLE, AND  EADICAL. 

Such  is  the  operation  of  leaven.  It  affects  specifi- 
cally one  definite  mass,  invisibly  and  thoroughly.  The 
change  that  Christ  came  to  produce 


70  LECTUEE    V. 

1.  Is  a  change  of  individuals.  It  is  intensely  in 
teresting  to  examine  the  character  of  all  political  and 
religions  institutions  existing  in  our  Saviour's  day,  and 
see  how  clearly  he  discerned  the  point  in  which  they 
were  radically  defective  ;  in  which  most  of  the  civil 
governments  to  this  day  are  defective ;  and  even  the 
most  numerous  and  powerful  sects  in  religion,  or 
churches.  Greece,  Babylon,  Rome,  and  nearly  all 
the  modern  European  governments,  made  the  country 
every  thing  ;  the  man,  nothing.  So  it  is  with  Pagan- 
ism, Mohammedism,  Romanism.  But  Christ  sunk 
every  thing  in  the  individual  man.  And  out  of  his 
reliffious  teachings  has  slowlv  risen  the  British  Consti- 
tution,  which  makes  the  citizen  the  end,  and  govern- 
ment and  society  the  means,  to  a  great  extent ;  and  our 
Constitution,  freed  from  the  burdens  of  past  ages, 
which  carries  this  principle  still  farther.  The  Gospel 
deals  Avith  man  apart  from  all  associations,  institutions, 
and  alliances,  as  a  man  ;  a  single  solitary  spirit,  who 
carries  in  himself  more  worth  than  worlds  can  buy, 
more  to  lose  or  save  than  an  angel  can  ever  compute. 
He  may  have  many  duties  to  perform  toward  others  ; 
many  claims  of  others  may  lie  u]3on  him.  Societj^  may 
be  to  him  a  A'ery  important  institution.  But  changes 
in  heaven  or  hell,  revolutions  in  the  whole  heavenly 
sphere,  changes  in  church  or  in  state,  are  all  to  him 
nothing  compared  to  one  change, — that  of  himself. 
"  One  thing  is  needful — except  a  man  be  born  again, 
he  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  "What  is  that  to 
thee  ?  follow  thou  me." 

2.  It  is  an  internal  change.  The  leaven  affects  \1\q^ 
exterior  layer  of  the  meal ;  but  it  is  by  working  out- 
ward from  within.      Man  may   change   many   things 


THE    LEAVEN,  71 

externally,  before  conversion  to  God.  He  must  change 
many  things  in  conversion.  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake 
his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts  ;  and 
let  him  return  unto  the  Lord."  But  the  great  change 
is  in  the  heart.  "  With  the  heart  man  believeth  unto 
righteousness.  Burnt-offerings  and  sacrifices  thou 
wouldst  not ;  the  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit." 
God  recognizes  man  in  his  heart ;  and  hence,  to  know 
man,  he  does  not  look  upon  the  outward  appearance, 
but  ''  he  searcheth  the  heart,  and  trieth  the  reins."  If 
a  man  is  holding  to  a  false  religion,  let  him  abandon  it ; 
to  an  irreligious  or  immoral  practice,  let  him  abandon 
it.  But  let  it  be  in  consequence  of  an  inward  forsaking 
of  all  sin,  and  turning  to  God.  "  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  like  unto  leaven  hid." 

3.  It  is  a  radical  change.  Tlie  leaven  takes  hold 
upon  the  mass  of  meal  at  its  centre,  and  works  into 
every  atom,  until  it  has  essentially  changed  the  proper- 
ties of  the  entire  body  ;  so  radical  and  thorough  is  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  may  in  some  cases  give 
much  light  without  changing  the  heart.  But  the  mere 
acquisition  of  knowledge  is  not  the  great  change  ;  for, 
"  though  I  have  all  knowledge,  and  have  not  charity,  I 
am  nothing."  It  is  not  a  mere  emotional  change,  for 
there  are  principles  back  of  the  emotions  which  will 
ultimately  control  them  in  spite  of  any  temporary  in- 
fluence that  may  affect  them.  It  is  not  any  endowment 
of  gifts  ;  for,  "  though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men 
and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as 
sounding  brass."  It  is  a  change  of  masters.  Tlie  author- 
ity of  Christ  now  becomes  predominant.  Tliis  introduces 
new  objects  of  pursuit,  new  princi^jles  of  action,  new 
rules  of  life,  a  new  standard  of  chai-acter  and  conduct. 


72  LECTURE   V. 

So  that  what  had  been  most  cherished  is  renounced ; 
what  had  satisfied,  now  causes  sorrow  ;  the  soul  and  its 
power,  the  body,  the  being,  is  devoted  to  him  who  hath 
purchased  it  by  redeeming  blood.  The  dependence  of 
the  soul  is  now  upon  Christ.  For  acceptance  with  the 
Father,  for  strength,  for  light,  for  life,  for  victory,  for 
heaven,  for  success,  for  support,  the  soul  looks  without 
ceasing  to  him  who  hath  given  his  promise,  to  be  its 
strength  and  its  salvation. 

Here  then  is  a  change  of  view  in  regard  to  God, 
self,  happiness,  the  Gospel,  time,  the  world,  and  eternity. 
There  are  new  feelings  in  prayer,  in  prosperity  and  ad- 
versity ;  new  desires,  new  hopes  ;  gratitude,  penitence, 
zeal  for  God's  honor  ;  love  to  his  people  and  his  service 
take  the  place  of  world  and  self.  There  is  a  radical 
revolution  in  the  great  controlling  faculty,  or  rather  in 
the  man  himself ;  for  he  is  said,  in  the  strong  language 
of  inspiration,  to  be  "  a  new  creatm^e." 

Another  feature  of  this  change  is, 

HI.  Its  ultimate  completeness. 

Leaven,  we  have  observed,  is  a  chemical  agent, 
working  toward  one  end,  the  entire  assimilation  of  the 
mass  to  a  new  type.  So  the  Spirit  and  Word  of  God 
penetrating  a  human  being,  the  Fathers  said,  "  in  his 
spirit,  soul,  and  body,"  represented  by  three  measures 
of  meal,  totally  transform  him. 

1.  The  tendency  of  the  Word  and  Sjpirit  of  God  in 
the  human  heart  is  invariably  to  one  end.  It  seems 
probable  that  the  only  reason  why  the  third  person  in 
the  adorable  Godhead  is  denominated  by  the  title  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  is  not  that  any  distinctive  feature  of 
his  personality  may  be  pointed  out ;  but  solely  with 


THE    LEAVKN.  73 

reference  to  his  office.  He  is  the  sanctifier  of  spirits. 
All  his  approaches  to  our  hearts,  all  his  blessed  agency 
witliin  them,  is  for  our  renovation  ;  to  illnmiuate,  puri- 
fy, elevate,  and  transform  them  into  his  own  likeness. 
He  finds  in  us  the  spirit  of  the  world ;  selfishness,  pride, 
and  rebellion  against  Grod.  To  recall  us  to  love  and 
obedience  ;  to  subdue  om*  evil  habits,  and  lead  us  into 
the  service  of  God,  to  detach  our  hearts  from  earth,  and 
prepare  us  for  heaven  ;  this  is  his  aim  in  all  his  opera- 
tions. And  coincident  with  this,  is  the  influence  of  the 
Word.  Tlie  Scriptures  aim  at  this  great  change  in  us. 
They  affirm  its  necessity,  and  they  furnish  the  means 
of  its  accomplishment.     But, 

2.  Their  influence  may  he  hindered.  In  one  sense 
Truth  is  omnipotent.  But  not  in  opposition  to  human 
will.  There  is  the  turning-point  of  freedom  and  re- 
sponsibility. Man  can  resist  truth  ;  refuse  to  give  his 
attention  ;  fix  his  thoughts  on  a  false  show  ;  and  yield 
himself  to  illusion.  The  Spirit  of  God  is  omnipotent. 
But  he  does  not  crush  the  human  soul,  nor  suspend  its 
powers.  Even  after  he  has  commenced  its  renewal,  he 
leaves  it  a  vast  space  of  freedom.  And  there  comes  the 
occasion  for  that  slow  progress  and  imperfect  develop- 
ment of  the  divine  life,  for  which  the  world  censures 
regenerated  men ;  and  for  which  they  afflict  them- 
selves. Some  contend  for  the  abstract  possibility  of 
advance  without  any  cessation  or  declension.  The 
difficult  point  to  attain  is,  to  insist  on  the  possibility 
and  obligation  of  incessant  progress,  and  yet  not  con- 
tradict the  realities  of  experience,  nor  discourage  the 
sincere  who  find  the  difficulties  of  the  way.  This 
blessed  work  can  be  hindered  by  influences  without 
and  within.  But, 
4 


74  LECTURE   V. 

3.  Grace  and  Truth  are  ultimately  t/riumjphant. — ■ 
This  point  divides  the  oj)inions  of  Christians.  Some 
think  they  have  Scripture  and  reason  for  afhrming  that 
regeneration  does  not  insure  salvation.  Their  Scriptural 
proof  consists  chiefly  of  the  warnings  addressed  to  re- 
generated persons.  But  concerning  the  strongest  of 
these,  it  is  remarkable  that  it  overthrows  a  part  of  the 
theory  which  these  brethren  find  it  necessary  to  adopt. 
They  dare  not  aflirm  that  an  apostacy  after  regenera- 
tion prevents  a  second  regeneration.  On  the  contrary, 
they  maintain  that  men  are  at  one  time  renewed  in 
heart ;  and  afterward,  that  work  is  wholly  destroyed  ; 
so  that  a  regenerated  man  may  become  an  heir  of  per- 
dition ;  and  then  be  converted  again,  a  thousand  times. 
But  the  Scriptures,  speaking  of  some  who  have  made 
much  religious  progress,  says,  they  "have  been  enlight- 
ened, have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God  and  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come,  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift, 
and  are  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  IS'ow  this 
is  a  strong  description.  And  I  da  not  wonder  that 
some  supj)ose  it  means  regeneration ;  although  I  be- 
lieve it  simply  describes  a  great  degree  of  illumination 
and  of  religious  impression,  without  regeneration.  But 
if  it  describes  regeneration,  then  they  must  take  all  that 
follows.  If  such  fall  away,  "  it  is  impossible  to  renew 
them  to  repentance." 

The  true  state  of  the  case  seems  to  be  this.  The 
Scriptures  give  doctrines  with  reference  to  practical  re- 
sults ;  not  to  satisfy  curiosity,  or  the  mere  love  of  know- 
ledge. And  many  doctrines  are  presented  j)artially, 
and  even  with  seeming  contradictions,  for  these  very 
suflicient  reasons  ;  we  are  unable  to  go  far  enough  to 
eee  the  full  harmony  of  them ;  yet  we  need  to  see  the 


THE    LEAVEN.  7* 

apparent  discord,  for  the  sake  of  its  antagonistic  influ- 
ence on  the  mind.  When  the  Arminian  and  Calvin- 
istic  schools  cease  contending  for  victory,  and  simply 
desire  to  know  what  is  taught ;  whether  they  can  re- 
duce it  to  a  science  and  a  system  or  not,  then  I  believe 
they  will  see  in  the  Scriptures,  that  a  man  who  is  re- 
generated has  the  double  influence  of  hope  and  fear ; 
hope,  from  the  fact  that  "God  will  complete  what  he 
has  begun ; "  fear,  that  he  may  have  carried  the  soul 
no  farther  than  to  that  state  from  which  one  may  fall 
to  rise  no  more. 

This  Parable  then  7'e^eats  to  men  the  solemn  affir- 
mation of  Christ : — "  Ye  must  he  horn  again!'''  It 
shows  that  between  man  and  heaven  lies  a  barrier 
which  nothing  can  remove,  that  does  not  radically  and 
completely  change  his  heart.  The  revolutions  of  time, 
the  advance  of  science,  the  progress  of  civilization  ;  all 
will  be  to  him  unavailing,  unless  he  himself  is  changed 
in  heart.  The  parable  represents  his  heart  as  the  un- 
leavened paste,  unfit  for  the  Master's  use  until  the  Word 
and  Spirit  of  God  have  penetrated  and  transformed  it. 
Your  excellent  and  amiable  qualities  will  not  save  you. 
There  is  back  of  them  an  element  of  ungodliness  and 
selfishness  which  must  for  ever  exclude  you  from  the 
kingdom  of  heaven ;  for  that  kingdom  is,  in  every  in- 
stance of  its  establishment  in  the  human  heart,  "  like 
leaven  which  a  woman  took  and  hid  in  three  measures 
of  meal." 

Here,  fellow-men,  is  the  matter  of  supreme  moment 
to  you.  You  cannot  go  to  heaven,  unless  the  mighty 
fermentation  of  Christ's  gospel  has  removed  the  old  ele- 


76  LECTURE    V. 

ments  of  selfishness  and  ungodliness,  and  changed  yon 
from  glory  to  glory,  into  the  likeness  of  Christ. 

"What  is  it  to  yon  personally,  to  yon  as  an  inhabiter 
of  eternity,  that  science  is  making  the  most  brilliant 
conquests  ;  that  liberty  is  gaining  the  earth  to  herself ; 
that  slavery  must  ultimately  cease  ;  that  your  political 
party  gets  the  reins  of  government  into  its  hands  ;  that 
your  country  becomes  the  admiration  of  the  world  ;  nay, 
if  you  yom'seif  should  become  possessor  of  the  world, 
and  yet  the  Word  and  Spirit  of  Christ  do  not  take 
full  possession  of  your  heart  !  "  What  is  a  man  pro- 
fited if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul ! " 
"  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  for  one  thing  is 
needful."  Men  must  beware  lest  they  overlook  the  great 
principles  contained  in  this  parable.  Each  one  must 
take  care,  first  of  his  own  soul.  We  easily  lose  our- 
selves in  a  crowd,  and  satisfy  ourselves  with  sweeping 
along  on  this  great  current  of  social  progress  and  social 
hapi^iness.  But  our  first  work  is  with  our  heart.  That 
must  be  converted  and  sanctified,  or  we  have  no  part 
in  the  kingdom  of  God. 

We  see  that  in  extending  the  Kingdom  of  God^  our 
wm^h  is  with  indimduals.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  seeks 
its  first  lodgment  in  the  heart,  Tlierefore  we  must 
work  in  that  direction,  if  we  would  work  for  its  ad- 
vancement. Whether  we  have  a  child  to  deal  with,  or 
an  adult,  there  is  the  measure  of  meal,  into  which  the 
leaven  must  be  introduced.  If  we  are  in  a  vast  com- 
munity, and  asking,  what  good  can  I  do  here  ?  the  an- 
swer is  in  this  parable  ;  get  the  leaven  into  one  heart. 
K  you  were  landed  in  China,  and  could  learn  only 
words  enough  to  express  the  fundamental  facts  of  the 


THE    LEAVEN.  77 

gospel,  joiir  labor  would  be,  not  with  the  millions  of 
that  vast  nation,  but  with  its  units.  One  soul  at  a  time 
must  be  reached.  And  no  painstaking,  no  sacrifice 
is  too  great,  which  it  may  cost  you.  The  power  to 
transform  the  heart  is  not  yours.  But  you  have  a 
manifold  agency  in  introducing  it.  Even  the  Holy 
SjDirit  of  God  places  himself,  in  a  certain  degree,  within 
your  power.  Prayer  brings  his  presence  not  only  to 
the  heart  of  him  that  prays ;  but  also  to  the  souls  of 
others.  After  our  Lord's  ascension,  the  first  thing  the 
disciples  did,  was  to ,  assemble  themselves  for  prayer, 
for  days.  Then  the  Spirit  came  with  mighty  power, 
into  hundreds,  changing  them  into  the  likeness  of 
Christ. 

And  the  truth  is  in  our  own  hands.  By  various 
channels  we  can  communicate  it ;  not  knowing  when 
we  sow  the  seed,  which  will  prosper  ;  but  commending 
it  to  the  Lord  of  the  harvest. 

Our  exjpectations  in  regard  to  the  jprogress  of  Christ'' s 
kingdom  must  he  controlled  hy  this  Parable.  We  must 
never  be  discouraged  in  our  labors,  by  ajjpearances. 
"We  send  missionaries  to  a  heathen  land,  or  to  a  church 
sunk  in  the  death  of  superstition.  Our  first  success  is 
not  outward  and  visible.  We  look  not  for  great  social 
and  political,  or  ecclesiastical  changes.  The  leaven  has 
been  deposited  silently  in  individual  hearts  ;  and  there 
it  is  working  amid  great  hindi-ances,  often  long  before 
its  fermentation  comes  to  the  sui*face.  Christ  filled 
Judea  with  the  gospel ;  but  it  was  working  silently  in 
thousands  who  did  not  manifest  its  power  in  them,  un- 
til long  after  his  death. 

Our  dutj  is  not  with  results,  but  with  these  forms 


78  LECTUKE   V. 

of  agency.  Are  we  sliowing  the  truth,  of  the  gospel  in 
oiu*  daily  intercourse  with  men  ;  is  our  "  conversation 
with  grace  seasoned  with  salt  ? "  Do  we  insinuate  the 
leaven  by  its  outworkings  in  our  lives  and  conversa- 
tion ?  Do  we  declare  in  all  suitable  ways  and  seasons 
the  soul-transforming  truths  of  the  gospel  ?  Do  we 
propagate  this  truth  to  the  extent  of  om*  ability  ?  Do 
we  pray  for  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 


LECTURE  VI. 

GROWTH  OF  THE  SEED  ;    OK,  GEOWTU  IN  PIETY. 

Mark  iv.  2G-29.  "  And  he  said,  So  is  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  if  a 
man  should  cast  seed  into  the  ground ;  aud  should  sleep,  and  rise  night 
and  day,  and  the  seed  should  spring  and  grow  up,  he  knovveth  not  how. 
For  the  eai-th  bringeth  forth  fruit  of  herself;  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear, 
after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.  But  when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth, 
immediately  he  putteth  in  the  sickle,  because  the  harvest  is  come." 

Yegetable  growth  is  one  of  those  beautiful  and  in- 
structive objects  wliicli  our  heavenly  Father  has  ]3laced 
before  us  in  infinite  variety.  For,  while  the  Scriptures 
are  Nature's  great  interpreter,  I^ature  throws  back  her 
light  on  their  pages.  This  parable  was  designed  to 
show  that  growth  or  progress  belongs  to  the  Christian 
character.  The  parable  of  the  sower  had  introduced 
the  subject ;  showing  that  the  truth  j)enetrates  some 
hearts,  as  the  seed  enters  the  furrow  of  the  ploughed 
land.  There  the  sower  deposits  it ;  and  then  it  must 
come  under  new  laws  and  forces,  and  grow,  not  only  by 
a  power  entirely  independent  of  him,  but  also  by  pro- 
cesses of  which  he  is  quite  ignorant.  He  rises  and  he 
lies  down,  attending  to  other  things  ;  but  the  seed  goes 
on  through  its  various  processes  and  successive  stages, 
until  it  has  reached  its  maturity  ;  tlius  springing  up, 


80  LECTUKE    VI. 

and  growing,  lie  knows  not  liow.  There  is  in  it  an  in 
destrnctible  life.  The  same  thing  is  tlms  a  little  diifer- 
ently  expressed  ;  "  being  born  again,  not  of  corruptible 
seed,  but  of  incorruptible,  by  the  "Word  of  God,  which 
livetli  and  abideth  for  ever,"  The  soul  of  the  parable 
is  there;  in  the  analogy  of  growth.  We  icafet  not, 
therefore,  press  the  other  points ;  for  if  you  make  the 
sower  to  be  Christ,  you  fail.  He  does  not  sleep,  but 
watches  the  planted  little  seed.  He  is  not  ignorant 
how  it  springs  up  and  grows.  If  you  apply  the  sower 
to  the  preacher,  you  fail  again ;  for,  although  he  will 
reap,  yet  he  does  not  gather  the  grain.  That  belongs 
to  the  Lord  of  the  harvest.  'Nor  do  I  suppose  that  the 
allusion  to  the  three  stages  of  growth  is  absolutely  per- 
fect as  a  classification  of  Christian  experience.  It  i? 
subordinate  in  the  parable ;  yet  it  is  so  prominent,  and 
so  descriptive  of  the  reality,  that  it  may  justly  claim  to 
guide  our  meditations. 

We  will  look  at  the  steps  and  the  means  of  progress 
in  the  divine  life.  If  we  were  regarding  Christian 
character  in  the  mutual  relations  of  its  several  parts, 
we  might  say  that  principle  or  integrity  was  the  soil, 
faith  the  root,  holy  sentiment  the  blossom,  and  benefi- 
cent action  the  fruit.  But  it  is  rather  the  chronological 
order,  the  diary  of  the  believer  which  is  given  in  this 
parable. 

I.  The  sucGessive  stages  of  jprogress  in  Christian  ex- 
2)e'rience  are  here  presented,  and  the  division  into  three 
corresponds  to  John's  beautiful  appeals  to  children, 
young  men  and  fathers  ;  not  in  age,  but  in  sj)iritual 
life.     First,  appears 

1.  The  hlade.  When  a  erood  seed  falls  into  i>'ood 
jiround,  it  begins  at  once  to  wo^'k  toward  the  produc- 


OKOWTH    OF   THE    SEED.  81 

tion  of  tlie  tree  that  is  to  bear  fruit.  It  first  forms  the 
blade  or  stem  ;  whicli  is  characterized"  by  vigor  and 
promise,  but  having  yet  great  tenderness,  and  great  dis- 
simiLarity  from  the  expected  fruit. 

The  distinguishing  excellencies  of  this  stage  are,  the 
simplicity  of  faith ;  the  fervor  of  desire  and  love  ;  the 
earnestness  of  purpose.  To  the  convert,  generally,  the 
attainment  appears  wonderful,  and  the  prospect  most 
cheering.  But  there  are  great  defects  in  connection 
with  these  excellencies.  They  are  :  ignorance  of  God, 
of  self,  and  of  the  gospel ;  a  proneness  to  rest  satis- 
tied  with  comforts,  attainments,  discoveries  and  joys, 
where  there  should  be  an  earnest  pressing  forward  to 
greater  attainments.  It  is  true,  gloriously  true,  that  the 
pilgrim  has  just  passed  the  Red  Sea.  Egypt  indeed  i? 
behind  ;  her  fetters  are  riven ;  her  hosts  are  destroyed  • 
but  Israel  is  now  entering  upon  the  long  wilderness- 
march  ;  though  loved  as  a  child,  yet  full  of  the  habits 
formed  in  the  state  of  bondage,  and  among  that  idol- 
atrous people.     Next  comes, 

2.  Tlie  ear.  The  tree  has  assumed  its  shape,  put 
out  its  branches  and  leaves,  and  the  fruit  has  taken 
form  ;  though  yet  lacking  ripeness. 

This  stage  of  Christian  experience  is  characterized 
by  increasing  self-renunciation,  as  the  result  of  increas- 
ing knowledge  and  experience.  There  was  at  first  a 
sincere  renunciation  of  self-righteousness,  and  of  all  pre- 
tensions to  personal  wisdom  and  strength.  But  it  was, 
as  yet,  partly  theoretic  ;  sincere,  yet  consistent  with 
much  self-reliance,  in  unsuspected  forms.  J^ow  the 
soul  comes  to  abandon  all  self-reliance,  in  every  form, 
because  it  has  painfully  discovered  that  man  cannot 
rely  upon  himself  for  any  thing  spiritually  good.     This 


82  LECTURE   YI. 

is  accompanied  with  trust  in  Clirist,  more  intelligent, 
more  entire,  more  comj^reliensive  of  his  attributes  and 
of  its  own  wants.  Here  the  age  of  conflict  commences. 
Israel  stood  still  on  the  banks  of  the  sea,  and  saw  his 
enemies  overthrown.  But  now  the  desert  is  entered  ; 
and  Amalek  apj)ears,  to  dispute  his  marcli.  Here  be- 
gins that  process,  the  intention  of  which  the  Lord  thus 
explains  :  "  To  humble  thee,  and  to  prove  thee,  and  to 
know  what  is  in  thy  heart ;  to  do  thee  good  at  thy 
latter  end."     The  third  stage  is, 

3.  The  full  corn  in  the  ear.  The  full  growth  of  the 
plant  is  attained.  There  only  remains  to  be  completed, 
the  process  of  rij^ening.  You  see  now  exactly  what  the 
grain  is  going  to  be,  and  how  much  of  it.  Here  is  a 
soul  passed  beyond  its  fierce  conflicts,  divested  of  its 
worldly  habits  of  thought  and  feeling ;  developed  in 
the  likeness  of  Christ ;  only  not  perfectly  ripe.  Humili- 
ty reigns  where  pride  was  once  predominant.  Submis- 
sion, meekness,  and  patience  have  softened  down  the 
rugged  features  of  a  nature  perhaps  impetuous,  self- 
willed,  and  j^assionate.  Love  is  calm,  but  fixed  and 
strong.  Hope  now  illumines  every  dark  spot,  and 
smooths  every  rugged  path  in  so  much  of  the  desert  as 
yet  lies  this  side  of  the  promised  land.  Life  has  now 
become  a  simpler,  sublimer  thing ;  for,  it  is  all  turned 
into  converse  with  God,  anticipations  of  heaven,  prepa- 
rations for  heaven,  and  labors  for  the  kingdom  of  God 
on  earth.  There  is  less  show  of  strength,  than  in  the 
young  convert ;  but  more  real  strength ;  because  there 
is  a  more  absolute  self-renunciation,  and  a  more  full  re- 
liance on  Christ.     Then  we  inquire, 

H.  What  are  the  7node  and  Tneans  of  progress  in 
'personal  piety  ? 


GROWTH    OF   TIIE    SEED.  83 

1.  It  %8  can'ied  foi'ivard  hj  a  divine  and  supeTnatu- 
ral  agency.  The  gosj)el  contains  abundantly  more  than 
an  offer  of  pardon,  and  the  promise  of  a  continuance  of 
such  general  divine  aid  as  the  soul  enjoys  before  believ- 
ing. It  is  the  promise  of  a  special  assistance  of  Provi- 
dence, and  of  the  special  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  "  All 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God." 
That  good  is  not  happiness  alone  ;  it  is  holiness.  The 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  God  of  Providence.  He  is 
"  Head  over  all  things  to  the  Church."  The  process  of 
saving  the  souls  for  whom  he  died  ;  of  presenting  the 
whole  body  of  the  redeemed  before  the  presence  of  his 
Father,  having  no  spot  nor  wrinkle,  nor  any  such  thing, 
is  in  his  estimation  the  highest  end  of  all  the  move- 
ments of  his  providence.  Tliis  was'strikingly  exhibited 
in  the  history  of  Israel.  "  I  will  give  men  for  thee," 
saith  the  Lord,  "  I  have  given  Egypt  for  thy  ransom  ; 
Ethiopia  and  Seba  for  thee."  You  call  it  a  miraculous 
dispensation.  It  was  a  typical  dispensation,  designed 
to  set  forth  God's  dealings  with  the  true  Israel.  To  carry 
the  soul  through  its  conflicts  and  labors,  from  the  first 
act  of  belief,  on  to  its  eternal  rest,  is  an  object  of  su- 
preme interest  with  him  who  commissions  the  angels 
and  guides  the  stars.  And  the  promise  of  our  ascended 
Lord  is,  that  he  will  send  the  Comforter  to  complete  us 
in  his  image  ;  so  that  as  we  behold  "  in  a  glass  the  glory 
of  God,  we  are  changed  into  the  same  image,  from 
glory  to  glory,  as  by  the  spirit  of  the  Lord."  Herein 
the  process  of  growth  is  hidden  from  human  view  ;  just 
as  it  is  in  nature.  Ko  man  can  see  the  mighty  energy 
that  covers  our  fields  with  the  tender  green  blade,  the 
strong  fruit-bearing  trunk,  and  the  ripening  corn.  Tlie 
farmer  performs  his  part,  committing  the  seed  to  the 


8i  LKCTURE    VI. 

earth.  The  power  of  growth  is  in  another's  hands.  lie 
may  sleep  and  rise,  night  and  day,  forgetting  the  hum- 
ble seed  he  has  sown ;  but  it  shall  still  "  spring  and 
grow  up,  he  knoweth  not  how."  I  am  conlident,  says 
Paul  to  the  Piiilippians,  "  that  he  which  hath  begun  a 
j;ood  work  in  you,  will  perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesua 
Christ." 

But  this  divine  agency  is  not  designed  to  make  us 
inactive  in  the  pursuit  of  our  own  highest  good.  Spir- 
itual progress  depends  also  upon, 

2.  Our  own  external  culture.  And  here  the  analo- 
gy of  nature  retm-ns  to  us.  An  invisible,  inaudible 
power  carries  the  seed  on,  fi'om  stage  to  stage  of  its 
wonderful  growth  ;  but  at  the  same  time  there  is  left  a 
place  where  the  skill  and  power  of  man  can  come  in, 
and  secure  the  best  results  of  that  powerful  divine  ac- 
tion. There  are  appointed  means  of  grace.  They  con- 
sist in  such  as  impart  strength  from  God  to  the  soul,  or 
carry  forth  the  soul  in  the  exercise  of  its  spiritual  func- 
tions. The  truth  revealed  in  the  Scriptures  is  the  nour- 
ishment of  the  soul.  That  trath  must  be  read  with  so 
much  frequency  as  to  keep  its  fulness  and  variety  before 
the  mind ;  its  explanation  and  enforcement  must  be  so 
heard  as  to  keep  the  mind  continually  expanding  in  its 
apprehension  of  it,  as  to  grow  in  divine  knowledge  ;  and 
so  frequently  meditated  on,  as  to  control  the  current  of 
thought.  Prayer  in  all  its  branches  greatly  aids  the 
unfolding  of  every  part  of  our  spiritual  nature.  The 
various  modes  of  Christian  conference,  especially  com- 
munion in  social  prayer,  exhortation,  and  the  celebra- 
tion of  Christ's  death  ;  together  with  special  acts  of 
solemn  self-examination,  humiliation,  attended  with 
fasting,  special  acts  of  private  thanksgiving  and  praise  : 


GROWTH    OF    THE    SEED.  »C 

and,  united  to  these,  the  acting  out  of  Christian  benevo- 
lence in  the  employment  of  time,  property,  and  other 
means  of  beneficence  for  the  good  of  our  fellow-men  ; 
these  means,  skilfully  and  faithfully  employed,  are 
God's  appointed  instruments  for  the  promotion  of 
holiness. 

There  is  then  a  more  direct  employment  of  our  per- 
sonal agency,  which  requires  a  more  sj)ecific  examina- 
tion.    For  distinction's  sake,  it  may  be  termed, 

3.  The  inward  culture  of  piety  i  and  for  brevity's 
sake,  reduced  to  the  cultivation  of  repentance  and  faith. 
The  will  of  man  is  the  man  in  action,  the  soul  in  its 
fullest  action  ;  especially  in  making  election  of  great 
objects  of  affection  and  courses  of  action.  The  will, 
like  the  memory,  is  only  a  mode  of  action ;  but  it  is 
that  on  which  character,  duty,  responsibility  and  des- 
tiny supremely  rest.  Hence  the  Scriptures  continually 
address  man  as  a  being  having  a  will  or  power  of  choice 
toward  the  right  as  well  as  the  wrong.  But  it  is  as 
true  of  the  will  as  of  the  memory,  that  it  grows  weak 
when  not  exercised ;  and  the  neglect  to  exercise  its 
higher  functions,  equally  enfeebles  them.  Kow  the 
higher  function  of  the  will  is  the  election  of  a  su- 
preme object  of  affection,  a  supreme  rule  of  life,  and  a 
supreme  end  of  pursuit.  And  the  essence  of  repentance 
is  in  that  purpose  of  the  soul  by  which  it  turns  from  all 
sin  to  all  duty.  The  will  is  to  be  cultivated  by  right 
exercise.  I  w^ill  not  now  specify  the  mode  of  its  exer- 
cise, except  to  say,  that  it  must  be  under  the  guidance 
of  a  Scriptural  conscience  ;  for  at  present,  my  object  is 
simply  to  insist  on  its  being  exercised.  "Without  it 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  character  ;  as  the  essence  of 
character  lies  in  the  ultimate  choices  and  purposes  of 


86  LECTURE   VT. 

the  soul.  The  very  essence  of  that  image  of  God  which 
man  lost  in  the  apostasy,  consists  of  freedom  and  will 
rightly  used.  God  is  not  God  without  His  will  fully 
developed,  fully  in  exercise.  "Will  is  the  crowning  idea 
of  Deity  ;  will  joined  to  conscience.  Will  freely  choos- 
ing, preferring,  determining  what  is  morally  good,  is 
"the  perfect  conception  of  a  Holy  God.  There  is  nothing 
more  indispensable  in  the  inward  culture  of  the  divine 
life,  than  the  culture  of  the  will.  It  must  become 
strong,  prompt,  finu,  controlling,  inflexible,  in  order  to 
make  a  healthy,  mature  Christian.  A  true  Christian 
is  one,  who,  in  all  circumstances,  chooses  the  right  for 
him^self,  for  God,  for  his  fellow-creatures  ;  and  who  in- 
flexibly adheres  to  it.  This  is  the  sum  of  all  the  re- 
quirements of  the  Scriptures.  Love  is  the  fulfilling  of 
the  law.  But  love  is  not  a  sentiment,  a  movement  of 
the  sensibilities  ;  it  is  an  exercise  of  the  will,  the  high- 
est exercise  of  which  it  is  capable. 

This,  however,  presents  only  one  side  of  the  subject. 
And  if  men  were  left  to  this  instruction,  they  would 
fall  into  a  state  the  very  opposite  of  that  meekness,  de- 
pendence, humility,  and  submission,  which  are  supreme 
among  the  Christian  graces  ;  into  self-will,  which  is  the 
essence  of  moral  deformity.  Therefore  it  should  be 
added,  that  the  will  must  be  cultivated  in  that  exercise 
of  it  which  the  Scriptures  call  faith.  Sin  is  the  enslave- 
ment of  the  will.  It  cannot  follow  the  dictates  of  rea- 
6on  and  conscience  while  this  fearful  power  controls  it. 
And  the  only  v\^ay  of  escape  from  this  enthralment  is  by 
believing  in  the  testimony,  promise  and  person  of 
Christ.  Faith  is  the  next  step  in  advance  of  Repent- 
ance. Hepentance  renounces  self-interest  as  a  supreme 
end  ;  then  faith  utterly  and  for  ever  renounces  depend- 


GROWTH    OF    THE    SEED.  87 

once  on  self,  in  reference  to  spiritual  recovery  ;  and,  it 
accepts  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  be  its  propitiation,  its 
strength,  and  its  redeemer. 

Here  then,  it  is  the  very  opposite  of  self  reliance,  of 
self-righteousness,  of  pride,  or  self-will.  This  is  man's 
coming  back  by  the  very  door  at  which  he  went  out  from 
God.  It  abandons  the  suspicion  that  God  is  not  seek- 
ing our  welfare  ;  it  abandons  the  ambitious  purpose  of 
rising  to  places  for  which  He  does  not  prepare  us  ;  it 
abandons  the  looking  to  created  good  for  happiness  ; 
it  abandons  all  indejDendence,  and  all  seliishness,  by 
which  God  is  separated  from  the  soul. 

Inward  culture  may  then  be  concisely  described  as 
the  constantly  renewed  exercise  of  the  purpose  to  for- 
sake all  sin,  to  seek  after  all  holiness,  and  to  rely  solely, 
confidently,  and  earnestly  upon  the  Almighty  Saviour. 
This  earnest  seeking  after  personal  perfection,  called  in 
the  Scriptures,  a  hungering  and  thirsting  after  right- 
eousness, leads,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  employment  of 
all  God's  appointed  means,  in  humble  dependence  on 
the  grace  of  God.  Ko  garden  or  field-culture  is  so 
sure  of  success  as  this  heart-culture,  since  the  Lord 
esteems  mental  and  moral  excellence  as  infinitely  more 
lovely  and  valuable  than  the  beauty  of  all  material 
blossoms,  or  the  richest  of  all  material  fruits. 

And  since  faith  begins  and  faith  continues  the  life 
of  God  in  the  heart,  there  is  no  independence  of  Christ, 
from  beginning  to  end.  And  thus  the  rij)ening  corn 
still  lives  upon  the  root,  to  the  end. 

Here  is  encouragement  to  l)oth  the  preacher  and 
hearer  of  the  Word.  There  is  a  divine  power  mightier 
than  human  eloquence,  mightier  than  the  divine  word; 


88  LECTURE    VI. 

but  acting  througli  human  speech,  and  through  the 
word.  There  is  often  in  the  preacher  an  enfeebhng 
sense  of  incompetence  to  secure  the  great  results  at 
which  he  aims.  But  let  him  remember  that,  after  he 
has  cast  in  the  seed,  there  is  another  power  to  superin- 
tend and  to  secure  its  growth.  To  that  gracious,  sleep- 
less, mighty  agent,  let  him  cheerfully  and  in  faith  com 
mit  the  precious  trust.  He  may  have  other  work  to  do 
in  reference  to  its  growth  and  maturity.  But  he  is  not 
the  mighty  power  of  God.  He  is  permitted  and  re- 
qmred  to  pray  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  accompany  and 
follow  his  labors  ;  but  the  power  is  in  the  hands  of 
another,  not  his  own.  And  in  every  age  of  the  Church 
the  most  faithful  and  successful  sowers  have  magnified 
the  ofiice  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  cheerfully  intrusted 
their  labors  to  his  grace.  Unnumbered  supplications 
have  gone  up  from  the  servants  of  Grod,  after  j)reaching 
the  word  to  their  congregations,  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
would  give  the  word  root  in  every  heart,  and  cherish  it 
there  as  a  living  seed,  growing ;  first  the  blade,  then 
the  ear,  then  the  full  corn  in  the  ear,  until  the  great 
Keaper  shall  come  and  gather  it  to  his  garner.  This 
is  a  delightful  resting-place  for  a  soul  solicitous  of  spirit- 
ual and  eternal  results  to  its  labors  in  the  ministry  of 
the  word. 

And  the  same  encouragement  may  be  found  for 
those  who  hear  the  word  with  the  purpose  of  profiting 
by  it.  It  is  the  seed  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Our 
care  and  our  diligence  must  be  bestowed  upon  it  in  the 
successive  stages  of  its  growth.  But  there  is  something 
infinitely  better  and  mightier  than  our  care  or  diligence. 
Having  received  the  word  into  hearts  disposed  to  en- 
tertain it  and  profit  by  it,  we  may  rejoice  that  this 


GROWTH    OF   THE    SEED.  8^ 

growth  is  eftected  by  the  mighty  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Our  feeble  endeavors  to  retain  the  memory  of 
it,  to  apply  it  to  om-selves,  to  receive  from  it  the  great- 
est benefit,  are  not  unaided  efforts.  Tlie  Holy  Spirit  is 
with  us,  and  he  makes  our  efforts  avail. 

Here  is  also  responsibility.  Tliis  is  the  seed  of  the 
heavenly  kingdom,  given  to  the  heart  of  man  to  take 
root  there,  and  grow  np  to  eternal  life.  But  what  if  it 
fails  to  grow  ;  some  one  mnst  bear  a  heavy  load  of 
guilt.  It  must  be  some  active  agency,  and  a  very 
malignant  agency  too,  that  would  deprive  both  God 
and  the  soul  of  such  glorious  and  immortal  fruits.  It 
would  be  very  malignant  to  cast  on  a  field  which  a 
farmer  had  just  planted,  some  poisonous  liquor  that 
should  kill  every  seed.  Look  then  at  the  destruction 
of  this  seed  in  your  own,  or  another's  heart.  Is  it  not 
wicked?  Yes,  Ave  are  made  very  responsible  by  re- 
ceiving this  heavenly  seed.  God  requires  that  we 
bring  forth  the  fruits  of  it.  I  would  then  propose  these 
questions  to  different  classes  successively  : 

Are  you  a  plant  of  heaven  ?  Perhaps  you  reply  ; 
I  fear  not.  Why,  then?  I  rejoin.  Unbelief  is  volun- 
tary. You  have  not  received  the  word  in  faith  ;  that 
is,  you  have  wilfully  preferred  sin  to  repentance,  the 
world  to  Christ ;  and  every  truth  of  the  Bible  you 
prevent  from  producing  its  legitimate  effect  on  you. 
Consider,  beloved  hearer,  w^hat  this  involves.  God  is 
presenting  himself  to  you  in  this  word.  He  is  here  show- 
ing you  his  great  clemency,  and  calling  you  to  return 
to  him.  But  yon  obstinately  refuse  and  reject  both  the 
terrors  and  the  attractions  of  the  Gospel.  It  will  be 
bad  for  you  to  turn  away  from  hearing  the  word  of 
God.     It  is  dreadful  to  hear  and  refuse  obedience. 


90  LECTURE   VI. 

Perliaps  you  say — I  once  tliouglit  uiyself  converted ; 
but  it  proved  to  be  superficial.  Then  see  your  mistake, 
and  avoid  it  now  ;  but  do  not  plead  a  former  superficial 
conversion  as  a  reason  why  you  should  not  now  pro- 
foundly turn  to  the  Lord.  You  may  have  chosen  sal- 
vation, and  not  Christ ;  reformation,  but  not  godliness  ; 
godliness,  but  not  by  believing  on  Christ.  Now  re- 
nounce unbelief,  self-righteousness  and  formality,  and 
turn  fully  to  God  in  Christ.  Have  you  grown  out  of 
the  earth  far  enough  to  resemble  the  blade  ?  If  so,  this 
is  but  the  beginning, — ^})rogress  is  now  your  duty.  For 
a  plant  not  to  grow  is  to  die.  Your  growth  depends 
upon  a  power  not  your  own.  But  the  promise  of  that 
power  is  conditioned  on  your  faithfulness.  It  may  be 
granted,  to  make  you  faithful.  But  for  that  there  is  no 
promise.  Your  responsibility  respects  the  promise  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  in  answer  to  prayer  ;  of  a  blessing  in 
the  right  use  of  appointed  means.  Some  shoot  "above 
the  ground,  and  there  they  remain  stationary  stems, 
never  growing,  never  bringing  fruit.  Some  have  been 
in  that  state  for  many  years.  They  have  no  strong  desire 
to  be  otherwise.  They  have  not  renounced  all  belief 
that  they  are  Christians.  But  they  have  renounced 
the  hope  of  ever  making  much  out  of  Christianity,  or 
of  it  making  much  of  them.  They  grow  in  nothing ; 
they  aim  at  no  growth.  This  is  a  miserable  condition. 
This  is  a  miserable  use  to  make  of  the  glorious  redemjD- 
tion  of  Christ.  It  comes  to  give  you  life  ;  to  raise  you 
up  from  earth ;  to  make  you  a  child  of  God,  an  heir 
of  life  eternal ;  and  you  are  content  to  get  only  so  much 
as  a  poor,  leaky  hoj^e,  that  is  every  moment  liable  to 
sink  and  carry  you  down  with  it  when  a  storm  shakes 
the  ocean  around  you. 


GKOWTH    OF   THE    SEE1>  91 

Arouse  thee,  arouse  tliee,  dreamer ;  tins  is  not  ttiy 
rest :  it  is  no  time  for  any  to  slumber.  Every  day  you 
live  in  this  supine  state,  you  make  it  doubtful  whether 
you  ever  were  converted,  and  make  it  more  difficult  to 
disentangle  yourself,  and  start  vigorously  for  the  celes- 
tial city.  Are  you  grown  so  far  as  the  corn  in  the  ear  ? 
There  is  still  a  work  before  you.  The  end  is  not  at- 
tained. You  have  a  firmer  will,  though  less  emotion 
than  formerly.  You  dread  sin  more,  but  see  more  evi- 
dence of  it  in  yourself.  You  have  grown  downward 
as  well  as  upward.  Leaving  all  other  sources  of 
strength,  you  have  taken  a  stronger  hold  of  Christ. 
Your  character  is  mellowing  into  more  meekness  and 
gentleness.  You  can  get  along  better  with  others  ;  and 
they  with  you.  You  have  less  impetuosity  than  for- 
merly, but  more  purpose.  There  begins  to  be  a  sym- 
metry in  your  character,  a  harmony.  Kone  of  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  ripe  in  you  yet,  but  they  are  all 
there.  It  is  manifest  that  the  world  stands  much  lower 
with  you  than  it  once  did.  It  is  evident  that  you  have 
found  out  something  about  the  Bible  and  prayer  that 
you  once  did  not  know.  There  is  a  power  in  your  ex- 
ample at  home  and  abroad ;  there  is  a  steadiness  of 
Christian  zeal  that  did  not  formerly  exist.  The  plant 
has  evidently  passed  the  first  stage  of  growth.  It  is 
no  longer  the  blade  ;  the  ear  is  visible,  well-formed, 
complete  ;  yet  not  full,  nor  fully  ripe. 

Brother,  I  congratulate  you.  It  is  a  glorious  thing 
to  be  growing  into  the  fulness  of  a  tree  of  Paradise. 
Yet  I  also  exhort  you.  The  height  is  not  yet  reached  ; 
the  battle  is  not  over.  Still  jow  must  "  grow  in  gj-ace 
and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ."     You  want  a  more  complete  crucifixion  of 


92  LECTURE   VT. 

self,  a  more  full  knowledge  of  our  infinitely  adorable 
God  and  Saviour,  more  intimate  communion  with  liim , 
more  ardent  love  to  liis  cause  ;  more  ardent  desires  for 
the  heavenly  state  ;  more  intense  interest  in  the  salva- 
tion of  the  lost ;  more  of  that  prayer  that  shuts  and 
oj)ens  heaven. 

But  perhaps  I  address  one  who  is  ripe  for  heaven. 
It  may  be  a  disciple  youthful  in  years,  matm-ed  in  god- 
liness. It  may  be  one  combining  maturity  of  powers 
and  experience  with  a  matured  religious  character. 

You  can  look  back  and  see  the  successive  stages  of 
growth,  and  confirm  what  has  here  been  said.  Your 
own  agency,  vigilance,  solicitude,  struggles,  tears,  self- 
denials  and  diligence,  have  been  all  demanded  in  this 
work ;  and  yet  an  unseen  power  has  achieved  the 
blessed  results  you  have  now  reached.  You  can  see 
what  of  natural  disposition  grace  hath  changed,  and 
what  new  forms  your  character  has  assumed.  Let  us 
bless  his  name  together  this  day.  It  is  grace  ;  free, 
wondrous,  victorious  grace.  It  is  power  divine  em- 
ployed by  love  divine  ! 

When  I  think  of  such  a  case,  I  am  much  impressed 
by  this  passage  in  the  text — "  immediately  he  putteth 
in  the  sickle."  "  But  when  the  fruit  is  brought  forth, 
immediately  he  jjutteth  in  the  sickle,  because  the  har- 
vest is  come."  When  you  look  at  the  earthly  side  of 
this,  you  see  the  sower,  who  went  forth  in  tears  bearing 
precious  seed,  casting  it  into  the  cold  bosom  of  the 
earth.  For  long  months  he  has  waited,  watching  the 
clouds  and  the  winds.  But  now  his  fears  and  anxie- 
ties are  subsiding  into  a  calm  delight.  The  blade  has 
sprung  up  ;  then  he  sees  it  has  not  perished  in  the 
earth.     The  ear  puts  forth  ;  then  he  rejoices  still  more. 


GKOWTH    OF    THE    SEED.  93 

Now  the  corn  is  full  in  the  ear,  and  fully  ripe.  With 
what  gladness  does  he  put  in  the  sickle,  to  gather  it 
homo  to  his  garner  !  This  poor  earthly  solicitude,  fol- 
lowed by  this  joy,  is  one  of  our  teachers.  It  shows  as 
something  of  our  Redeemer's  feelings  in  reference  to 
our  growth  in  holiness.  Fellow  disciple,  no  eye  has 
watched  your  progress,  your  declensions,  your  re- 
coveries, your  conflicts,  your  fears,  your  hopes  and 
your  eflbrts,  with  such  interest  as  he  has  felt.  And 
now  he  sees  you  riijefor  heaven.  Perhaps  a  few  more 
suns  must  shine  upon  you,  a  few  more  rains  must  fall ; 
he  sees  something  yet  not  quite  complete  ;  but  the  time 
is  near,  it  hastens,  when  you  will  feel  the  sickle.  Fear 
it  not ;  you  know  what  hand  holds  it.  It  cuts  down 
only  the  straw.  The  precious  grain  is  garnered.  There 
may  come  the  sharp-edged  sickle,  and  then  the  tremen- 
dous blow  of  the  flail.  That  ends  your  earthly  history. 
The  rest  dates  from  heaven.  A  soul  ripened  for  glory 
in  this  field  of  sin  and  death  !  Surely  the  joy  of  the 
harvest  thrills  through  the  heavenly  mansions. 

O  ye  sowers !  be  diligent,  "  steadfast,  immovable, 
always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord  ;  forasmuch 
as  ye  know  your  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord  !  " 
O  ye  plants  of  heaven !  growth  is  your  great  work. 
"  Giving  all  diligence,  add  to  your  faith  virtue  ;  to 
virtue,  temperance  ;  to  temperance,  patience  ;  to  pa- 
tience, godliness  ;  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ;  to 
brotherly  kindness,  charity ;  for  if  these  things  be  in 
you,  and  abound,  they  make  you  that  you  shall  neither 
be  barren  nor  unfruitful  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 


LECTUKE  YII. 


THE  TWO  DEBTORS ;  OE,  LOVE  TO  CHRIST  PROPORTIONED  TO  THE 
CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  SIN. 


Luke  vii.  36-50.  "  And  one  of  the  Pharisees  desired  him  that  he 
wonld  eat  with  him.  And  he  went  into  the  Pharisee's  house,  and  sat 
down  to  meat.  And,  behold,  a  woman  iu  the  city,  which  was  a  sinner, 
when  she  knew  that  Jesm  sat  at  meat  in  the  Pharisee's  house,  brought  an 
alabaster  box  of  ointment,  and  stood  at  his  feet  behind  him  weeping,  and 
began  to  wash  his  feet  with  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  her 
head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed  them  with  the  ointment.  Now 
when  the  Pharisee  which  had  bidden  him  saw  if,  he  spake  within  himself, 
saying,  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet,  would  have  known  who  and  what 
manner  of  woman  this  is  that  toucheth  him ;  for  she  is  a  sinner.  And 
Jesus  answering  said  unto  him,  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  unto  thee. 
And  he  saith.  Master,  say  on.  There  was  a  certain  creditor  which  had 
two  debtors  :  the  one  owed  five  hundred  pence,  and  the  other  fifty.  And 
M'hen  they  had  nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me 
therefore,  which  of  them  will  love  him  most  ?  Simon  answered  and  said, 
I  suppose  that  he,  to  whom  he  forgave  most.  And  he  said  unto  him.  Thou 
hast  rightly  judged.  And  he  turned  to  the  woman,  and  said  unto  Simon, 
Seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered  into  thine  house,  thou  gavest  me  no 
water  for  my  feet :  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  tears,  and  wiped 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss  :  but  this  wo- 
man, since  the  time  I  came  in,  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head 
with  oil  thou  didst  not  anoint :  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my  feet  with 
ointment.  Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  Her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  for- 
given ;  for  she  loved  much  :  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth 
little.     And  he  said  unto  her,  Thy  sins  are  forgiven.    And  they  that  sat  at 


THE   TWO    DEBTORS.  95 

meat  with  him  began  to  say  ■within  themselves,  Who  is  this  that  forgiveth 
ans  also  ?  And  he  said  to  the  woman,  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  ;  go 
in  peace." 

"We  liave  thus  far  contemplated  the  general  efiects 
of  the  Gospel,  when  it  is  cordially  received  into  the 
human  heart.  A  few  of  those  parables  will  now  be 
selected  which  lead  us  to  contemplate  its  more  specific 
effects. 

The  scene  here  brought  to  view  should  not  be  con- 
founded with  another  quite  similar,  but  really  distinct 
from  it.  The  one  occurred  in  ]N^ain  ;  the  other  in 
Bethany.  This  woman  cannot  have  been  Mary,  the 
sister  of  Lazarus  ;  for  she  would  not  have  been  denomi- 
nated by  the  Pharisee  "  a  sinner  ; "  either  as  being  a 
Pagan,  or  as  notoriously  vicious.  In  this  case  the  ob- 
jection to  the  anointing  comes  from  the  host ;  in  the 
other,  from  some  of  the  guests.  In  this  the  objection 
impeaches  Jesus  ;  in  that,  the  woman.  In  this  the 
woman  appears  not  to  have  been  invited,  but  to  have 
entered  uninvited  as  a  spectator,  according  to  a  custom 
still  found  in  the  East.  In  the  other  case,  Mary  was  a 
guest.  Moreover,  Luke  alone  describes  this  case  ;  the 
other  is  described  by  Matthew,  Mark,  and  John. 
Equally  without  reason  has  Mary  of  Magdala  been 
confounded  with  this  person  :  nor,  in  fact,  is  there  the 
slightest  foundation  for  the  common  opinion,  that  Mary 
Magdalene  ever  anointed  the  Lord's  feet. 

The  group  is  before  us.  There  sits  the  Son  of  God,  the 
Redeemer  of  men.  On  one  side  of  him  is  embodied  the 
Pharisaic  spirit,  self-complacent,  coldly  respectful ;  on 
the  other,  the  lowly  penitent  bringing  her  costliest  thank  • 
offering,  and  presenting  it  with  a  libation  of  tears.  He 
is  wrapped  around  with  the  mantle  of  self-righteousness ; 


96  LECTURE    VII. 

satisfied  with  liis  own  goodness,  dignity,  and  importance. 
He  indeed  invites  Christ  to  a  supper ;  but  whatever 
motive  he  had,  it  was  not  the  desire  of  instruction  ;  for 
he  is  abeady  satisfied  with  his  knowledge  of  the  law. 
Xor  has  he  any  peculiar  desire  to  honor  Christ,  nor  any 
special  esteem  for  him  ;  for,  he  does  not  perform  even 
the  ordinary  Jewish  civility  of  offering  water  for  his 
feet.  He  offers  no  anointing  oil,  nor  kiss  of  friendship. 
But  this  poor  sinner  at  his  feet  bathes  them  with  her 
tears,  and  wipes  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head  ;  she 
hath  kissed  them,  and  anointed  them  with  the  most 
costlv  uno'uent. 

From  all  her  actions  (for  we  hear  not  a  word  from 
her)  we  learn  that  she  had  strong  religious  feelings  ; 
and  from  the  Pharisee's  reflections,  as  interpreted  by 
the  omniscient  Redeemer,  we  learn  that  he  despised 
her  emotions,  and  this  expression  of  them  ;  and  from 
Christ's  treatment  of  her,  we  learn  that  her  feelings 
Avere  approved  by  him. 

Her  emotions  were  penitential  grief  and  religious 
gratitude.  She  was  a  sinner,  a  transgressor  of  God's 
holy  law  ;  and  she  knew  and  felt  it.  She  had  dis- 
covered that  sin  is  the  evil  of  evils,  and  that  she  was 
totally  under  its  dominion  and  under  the  condemnation 
it  deserves.  Sinful  pursuits  and  sinful  companions  then 
stood  before  her  awakened  conscience,  stamped  with  the 
marks  of  Divine  reprobation.  It  sickened  her  heart 
to  remember  the  hollow  laughter  of  vicious  mirth  ;  the 
early  dej)artures  from  parental  counsels ;  the  wasted 
years  spent  in  debasing  her  angelic  nature,  and  in 
treasuring  up  stores  of  remorse  and  despair  for  the 
future.  God  h'ls  been  disobeyed,  and  his  righteous 
commandmert.'  have  been  violated.     Guilt  rests  upon 


THE   TWO    DEBTOKS.  97 

t  .        . 

"  her,  binding  the  soul  in  triple  fetters ;  sin  possesses  the 
soul  like  a  disease ;  all  is  dark  and  desperate.  Exist- 
ence thus  seen  is  a  curse,  an  intolerable  burden.  The 
soul  has  cast  itself  beyond  the  pale  of  the  divine  sym- 
pathy :  perhaps  for  ever.  Well  may  she  weep.  But 
she  has  still  another  cause  of  tears  ;  the  tears  of  joy, 
of  love  and  gratitude.  Somehow  she  has  come  to  be- 
lieve what  learned  Pharisees  would  not  believe,  that 
this  being  before  her  is  a  Saviour,  an  Almighty  Sa- 
viour ;  so  holy,  that  he  can  make  no  compromise  with 
any  form  or  degree  of  sin ;  yet  so  comj)assionate  and 
powerful,  that  the  chief  of  sinners  may  fly  to  his  feet, 
and  lind  there  a  refuge,  sympathy  and  salvation.  This 
belief  brings  her  there.  And  she  cannot  overstate  her 
conviction,  her  sorrow,  her  joy,  her  love  and  her  thank- 
fulness. 

But  the  Pharisee  understands  nothing  of  it  all.  He 
looks  on  without  wonder,  without  sympathy,"  without 
capacity  to  comj)reliend  the  scene.  He  reasons,  very 
wisely  in  his  own  estimation,  that  Christ  is  not  a 
prophet ;  or,  such  a  person  could  not  thus  approach 
him  under  any  guise.  John,  the  forerunner,  had  a 
commission  which  kept  him  in  great  sternness,  apart 
from  men.  This  the  Pharisees  could  understand.  But 
Christ's  free  manner  of  mingling  with  society,  living 
just  as  others  do,  so  far  as  they  do  right,  ]3erplexed 
them ;  especially  his  treating  men  as  human  beings, 
not  to  be  desjDised,  but  to  be  benefited,  however  bad 
they  may  be,  was  a  constant  scandal  to  them. 

AVhile  this  man  was  reasoning  with  himself,  Christ 
took  up  his  unuttered  train  of  thought,  and  replied  to 
it ;  letting  him  understand  that  this  penitent's  expres- 
sions of  affection  were  altogether  more  worthy  of  a 
5 


98  LECTURE    VII. 

favorable  regard  than  the  cold  mechanical  respect 
Avhicli  he  manifested.  And  this  remark  to  the  Phari- 
see— "  she  loved  much  ;  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven, 
the  same  loveth  little,"  is  the  key  to  the  parable  now 
before  us. 

There  are  two  men  indebted  to  a  third  in  very 
diflerent  sums,  the  one  being  tenfold  greafer  than  the 
other.  Both  are  generously  released  from  their  debts. 
Simon  admits  that  the  man  to  whom  most  is  forgiven 
will  feel  the  greatest  degree  of  obligation  ;  both  be- 
cause he  had  suffered  more  from  the  greater  difficulty 
or  improbability  of  his  ever  discharging  the  debt,  and 
because  of-  the  greater  expression  of  kindness  in  the 
creditor  making  so  much  greater  sacrifice  for  his 
benefit. 

There  have  been  several  false  inferences  drawn  from 
this  parable,  against  which  we  should  be  guarded. 

It  is  not  designed  to  teach  that  there  are  different 
degrees  of  forgiveness.  "  Much  forgiven "  simply 
means  a  greater  sense  of  the  value  of  forgiveness.  The 
phrase  is  employed  in  reference  literally  to  the  money- 
debt.  ISTor  is  our  love  the  ground  of  our  forgiveness. 
The  two  men  were  grateful  for  the  remission  of  their 
indebtedness,  but  the  remission  was  not  aE  effect  of 
that  gratitude  which  did  not  exist  until  it  had  taken 
place.  Our  Lord  moreover  told  Simon  that  the  degree 
of  love  in  the  forgiven  was  determined  by  the  extent 
of  forgiveness.  And  to  the  woman  he  said  distinctly, 
"  T\\j  faith  hath  saved  thee." 

Nor  does  this  parable  teach  that  it  is  desirable  to 
sin  much,  that  we  may  love  much.  It  is  not  the  greater 
sin,  but  the  greater  sense  of  sin  that  makes  us  grateful 
to  Christ.     It  teaches  that. 


THE    IWO    DEBTORS.  99 

The  Gospel  produces  love  to  Christy  hy  exhibiting 
the  greatness  of  oivr  necessities,  and  of  his  grace. 

Under  various  pretexts  two  features  of  the  Gospel 
have  been  sternly  opposed.  To  its  awful  exhibitions  of 
the  guilt  of  sin,  and  the  ruin  that  awaits  the  soul,  it  has 
been  objected, — that  "  fear  never  produced  love."  And, 
on  the  other  hand,  men  have  equally  objected  to  the 
laxness  of  its  principles.  Since  it  makes  human  works 
and  human  goodness  of  no  account  in  procuring  par- 
don, it  discourages  virtue,  and  makes  the  way  to  heaven 
too  accessible  for  all  classes  of  men."  ITow  the  fact 
is,  there  is  no  other  way  of  producing  holiness  in  the 
human  heart,  but  through  precisely  this  vital  element 
of  the  Gospel ;  an  easy,  and  most  free  and  generous 
deliverance  from  an  infinite  and  endless  evil.  And  I 
now  proceed  to  show  that, 

I.    ISTo  OTHER  SYSTEM  OF  RELIGION  WILL  PRODUCE  TRUE 

LOVE  TO  Christ. 

All  false  religions  may  be  reduced  to  two  classes  ; 
Pharisaism,  and  Rationalism. 

1.  Pharisaic  religions  never  produce  love.  Their 
characteristic  feature  is  the  self-righteousness  which 
abounds  in  religious  forms  and  superstitious  rites.  You 
see  it  carried  fully  out  in  the  Roman  Church,  where 
forgiveness  is  represented  as  depending  on  certain 
meritorious  acts,  and  the  performance  of  certain  su- 
perstitious ceremonies.  These  religions  always  pro- 
duce either  fear  or  pride,  because  they  leave  the  ques- 
tion of  forgiveness  dependent  on  personal  merits.  But 
whosoever  believes  his  own  goodness  to  be  sufficient  to 
cancel  his  sins,  must  feel  chiefly  indebted  to  himself. 
He  may  have  other  saviours ;  but  none  of  them  has 


100  LECTUKE   VII. 

done  for  liim  what  he  has  done  for  himself.  He  has  in 
fact  saved  himself.  But  in  the  case  of  those  persons 
who  have  too  much  conscience  to  admit  the  illusion  of 
having  merited  the  favor  of  God,  there  must  remain  a 
fearful  anticipation  of  the  consequences  of  unforgiven 
transgressions.  And  from  a  soinewhat  extensive  obser- 
vation of  the  religious  feelings  of  self-righteous  for- 
malists, I  should  feel  authorized  to  affirm — that  fear 
prevails  in  proportion  to  sincerity.  But,  on  the  con- 
trary, 

2.  Rationalism  equally  fails  to  produce  love^  be- 
cause it  fosters  iDride.  It  is  distinguished  from  Phari- 
saism by  having  no  such  sense  of  sin  as  to  call  for  many 
religious  forms.  It  has  very  little  to  be  delivered  from, 
and  therefore  neither  God  nor  man  has  much  to  do  for 
its  deliverance.  "\Yliat  God  has  done  in  creation,  or 
"whatever  he  does  in  providence,  it  may  recognize  ;  but 
it  knows  him  not  in  redemption.  Dealing  with  God 
mainly  as  a  God  of  justice,  it  has  no  deep  sense  of  in- 
debtedness to  him,  and  feels  quite  satisfied  with  itself. 
Thus  the  two  extremes  of  superstition  and  enlightened 
skepticism  meet  in  self-righteous  pride. 

But  while  neither  form  of  false  religion  can  produce 
true  love  to  God, 

n.  The  Gospel  cajst  PKODrcE  that  love. 

It  operates  effectually  to  counteract  and  remove 
precisely  those  elements  of  character  which  hinder  our 
fervent  love  and  gratitude  to  Christ ;  apathy,  aversion, 
and  obstinacy.  And  this  it  effects  by  precisely  those 
features  in  which  its  peculiarity  consists.  In  opposition 
to  all  the  forms  of  Rationalism,  it  exhibits  the  most 
awful  condition  of  man  as  a  sinner,  without  reserve  or 


THE   TWO   DEBT0K8.  101 

qualification.  Man  is  depraved,  and  yet  he  cannot 
change  his  own  heart ;  guilty,  and  cannot  atone  for  his 
own  sins  ;  exposed  to  the  quenchless  fires  of  hell,  and 
cannot  deliver  himself.  These  are  the  starting-point 
of  the  Gospel.  It  assumes  these  facts.  Then  it  difiers 
from  Pharisaism  and  Rationalism  equally,  by  placing 
the  ground  of  salvation  out  of  ourselves,  and  apart 
from  all  human  merit ;  requiring  simply  one  condition 
to  be  fulfilled — a  sincere  acceptance  of  Christ,  and  of 
salvation  in  and  by  him. 

JSTow  let  us  examine  the  eflfects  of  these  two  ele- 
ments of  the  gospel  in  removing  that  apathy,  that  anti- 
pathy, and  that  obstinacy  which  hinder  our  love  to  God. 

1.  The  Gosjpel  removes  our  sjgiritual  ajpathy.  There 
is  infinite  beauty  in  Christ ;  but  it  is  not  seen,  by  rea- 
son of  the  absorbing  power  of  visible  things.  And 
while  these  inferior  objects  are  ascendant,  they  benumb 
our  nobler  feelings,  and  hide  from  our  vision  the  glories 
of  Christ  and  redemption. 

Some  counteracting  influence  is  therefore  wanted,  to 
restore  the  proper  ascendency  to  things  that  are  real, 
divine  and  eternal.  By  some  means  the  attention  must 
be  fixed  on  Christ,  if  he  is  to  draw  forth  the  love  which 
he  claims,  and  which  it  is  our  blessedness  to  exercise. 

This  is  precisely  what  is  effected  in  the  conviction 
of  sin.  There  is  discovered  to  be  a  fatal  internal  de- 
rangement. Disorder  is  there.  The  soul  is  at  war  with 
itself.  It  is  under  the  control  of  passions,  of  desires,  of 
habits,  which  the  conscience  can  never  approve.  It  is 
blind  to  the  glory  of  its  Creator,  and  the  moral  beauties 
of  his  empire.  There  is  felt  the  gaUing  bond  of  a  sla- 
very which  mocks  the  misery  and  degradation  of  ex- 
ternal slavery.     There  is  a  fearful  separation  from  God ; 


102  LECTURE   VII. 

tliere  is  war  with  Lis  atti-ibutes,  liis  claims,  his  com- 
mands, his  pm'poses.  There  is  an  intimate  alliance 
with  the  sin-party  of  the  universe.  The  futm-e  is  com- 
ing ;  with  its  trials  ;  sickness  ;  death  ;  the  great  day  of 
judgment ;  eternity  !  ! 

Now  the  soul  is  awake.  It  has  ceased  to  dream ;  it 
sees.  It  has  ceased  to  be  torpid ;  it  feels  !  Whither 
shall  it  fly;  where  is  relief?  Is  there  a  Deliverer? 
These  have  become  absorbing  questions.  Other  ques- 
tions are  of  infinitely  inferior  importance.  Conceive 
then  of  the  readiness  of  the  soul  to  hear  of  Christ ;  for 
he  is  the  only  Physician  that  can  now  be  named ;  he  is 
the  fountain  in  the  desert  to  this  thirsty  wanderer  ;  he 
is  the  morning  star  to  rise  on  this  tempestuous  night ; 
the  bow  of  promise  arching  these  angry  heavens.  It 
is  frequently  said  that  terror  in  our  souls  does  not  ena- 
ble us  to  see  the  beauty  of  Christ ;  the  fear  of  everlast- 
ing death  does  not  make  us  love.  And  this  is  urged  as 
a  reason  why  men  should  not  be  alarmed.  But  the 
logic  is  unsound.  Exj)erience  is  stronger  than  reason- 
ing. There  is  an  infinite  beauty  in  Christ ;  a  tran- 
scendent glory,  which  the  human  soul  is  perfectly 
adapted  to  appreciate  when  certain  changes  have  taken 
place  in  it.  Among  these  changes  this  is  the  fii'st,  the 
aroused  attention  ;  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  quick  sensibili- 
ty of  the  spiritual  nature  aroused ;  the  stupidity  of 
worldliness  broken  up  ;  and  the  soul  made  to  go  forth 
beyond  itself,  beyond  this  hollow  pageant  of  honor, 
beauty,  and  pleasm-es,  to  find  the  real  good,  and  Him  in 
whom  is  found  all  good,  human  and  divine. 

Before  this  woman  found  forgiveness  and  the  Par- 
doner, she  was  first  brought  into  great  darkness,  fear, 
and  anxiety,  if  not  despair.    You  see  a  blind  Bartimeus 


TUK    TWO    DEBTOKS.  103 

waiting  at  the  way-side,  eager  to  catch  the  sound  of  his 
footstep,  while  thousands  having  sight,  pass  by  him 
with  indifterence.  You  see  the  hungry,  the  lepers,  the 
afflicted,  the  broken-hearted  following  him  everywhere  ; 
gazing  on  him  with  enraptured  delight,  w'hile  Pharisees 
and  seekers  for  worldly  honor  .see  no  beauty  in  him, 
that  they  should  desire  him.  Men  must  be  made  to 
feel  that  they  have  wants  infinitely  greater  than  those 
the  world  can  satisfy,  before  they  will  begin  to  look 
toward  Christ,  and  look  at  him  with  sufficient  fixedness 
of  attention  to  behold  that  he  is  "  the  chief  among  ten 
thousand,  and  altogether  lovely." 

There  is  another  difficulty  preventing  men  from  re- 
garding Christ  with  the  love  and  gratitude  which  are 
due  to  him.  It  is  antipathy  to  his  holy  authority. 
We  therefore  observe  that, 

2.  The  deejp  conscionsness  of  sin,  as  sin,  'removes  the 
omiijpathy  of  the  heart  to  Christ.  What  antipathy  to 
Christ  ?  That  which  makes  him  as  "  a  root  out  of  a 
dry  gi'ound."  In  promising  to  send  the  Holy  Spirit, 
the  Saviour  declared  that  he  would  convince  men  of  the 
sin  of  disbelief  in  him.  This  is  not  a  theoretic  and  sys- 
tematic rejection  of  him  ;  it  is  just  that  state  of  the  af- 
fections which  makes  men  willing  to  forget  him,  as  long 
as  it  is  safe  for  them.  The  Nazarenes  thought  they 
loved  him,  until  he  showed  them  that  they  were  no 
more  the  favorites  of  heaven  than  the  Gentiles ;  then 
they  attempted  to  dash  him  from  the  brow  of  a  hill. 
The  multitude  that  w^ere  fed  by  him,  thought  they  loved 
him,  imtil  he  reproved  their  worldly-mindedness.  The 
rich  young  ruler  thought  he  had  no  aversion  to  him, 
until  Christ  showed  that  his  service  could  not  be  made 
to  agree  with  avarice.     Simon,  the  Pharisee,  perhaps 


104  LECTUEE    VII. 

regarded  himself  as  holding  this  holy  prophet  in  higt 
esteem,  until  he  found  that  the  pure  and  generous  love 
of  Christ  esteemed  a  penitent  more  than  a  Pharisee. 

There  is  much  in  the  character  of  Christ  which  an 
impenitent  heart  may  admire  ;  but  a  love  for  his  entire 
character  can  never  dwell  in  that  heart  which  sees  not, 
and  does  not  abhor  its  own  sinfulness.  The  glory  of 
Christ  is  his  holiness  ;  just  that  in  which  he  is  totally 
opposite  to  every  human  being  who  is  unregenerated. 
Not  to  hate  ourselves  is  therefore  to  hate  Christ ;  not 
to  see  our  own  deformity,  is,  not  to  see  his  beauty. 

When  the  heart  is  fully  possessed  of  the  sense  of  its 
own  sinfulness,  then  it  appreciates  the  infinite  loveli- 
ness of  Christ.  He  is  just  the  opposite  of  all  that  we 
are.  We  are  selfish,  he  is  benevolent.  He  loves  his 
enemies  ;  he  is  meek  and  lowly  in  heart ;  he  is  conde- 
scending, patient,  just,  true,  and  wise  ;  manifesting  in 
all  his  human  life,  such  submission  to  the  Father,  such 
goodness  to  men,  such  purity  of  motive,  such  depth  of 
holy  aifection  !  In  every  way  the  penitent,  humbled 
soul  sees  him  contrasted  with  itself.  The  lower  we  lie, 
the  higher  we  can  look  ;  the  less  we  esteem  ourselves, 
the  more  we  can  esteem  Christ.  Through  the  hatred  of 
our  own  characters  we  come  to  a  profound  and  fervent 
admiration  of  his.  To  think  ourselves  as  good  as  Christ, 
needs  but  utterance  in  words  to  make  it  blaspiiemy. 
l^ot  to  see  the  contrast  between  him  and  ourselves,  is, 
not  to  know  either. 

And  it  holds  true  with  regard  to  redemption  itself. 
Until  we  know  and  abhor  ourselves,  we  do  not  overcome 
our  aversion  to  a  holy  redemption.  It  is  a  redemp- 
tion from  sin ;  from  the  whole  dominion,  and  from  every 
form  of  sin,  just  such  as  each  impenitent  heart  cher- 


THE   TWO   DEBT0K8.  105 

islies.  No  impenitent  heart,  therefore,  sees  the  magni- 
tude and  glory  of  it ;  the  kindness  of  the  motive,  the 
importance  of  the  result,  and  the  glory  of  him  who 
achieved  it.  So  long  as  any  one  is  impenitent,  he  has 
not  seen  the  intrinsic  and  essential  evil  of  sin  ;  and  so 
he  cannot  see  the  glory  of  redemption.  "Worldly  stu- 
pidity and  Pharisaic  self-complacency  may  admit  of  a 
very  refined  sensibility  in  hating  vice  as  it  is  dishonora- 
ble, not  consistent  with  self-respect,  and  against  the 
welfare  of  society.  And  hence  they  can  entertain  con- 
siderable respect  for  Christ  and  Christianity,  as  oj^pos- 
ing  vice.  But,  not  seeing  the  depths  of  sin  in  their 
own  hearts  ;  not  having  a  sufficiently  purified  vision,  to 
loathe  and  abhor  their  selfishness  and  pride,  they  can- 
not appreciate  Christ,  the  Gospel,  nor  true  penitence  in 
others ;  nor  see  the  glory  of  a  redemption  which  eradi- 
cates all  sin  from  the  heart,  and  raises  the  vilest  to  the 
purity  of  God  and  heaven. 

This  made  the  difference  between  these  two  persons, 
the  Pharisee  and  the  penitent.  "  She  loved  much," 
said  the  Saviom*,  "for  she  had  much  forgiven."  He 
had  entered  that  house  an  invited  guest.  And  yet  the 
host  had  not  extended  to  him  the  usual  civility  of  water 
for  his  feet ;  a  custom  which  we  can  trace  back  even  to 
Abraham's  day ;  for  he  said  to  his  guests,  "  let  a  little 
water  be  fetched,  I  pray  you,  and  wash  your  feet."  But 
this  woman  washed  them  with  her  tears.  Nor  did  she 
hesitate  to  employ  her  hair  in  wiping  them.  This  we 
find,  from  pagan  history,  was  a  very  strong  expression 
of  grief,  as  well  as  of  religious  reverence.  When  Han- 
nibal threatened  Pome  with  his  army,  the  Poman 
ladies  flew  to  the  temples  and  altars,  and  washed  the 
floors  of  the  temple  with  their  hairs.  Tlie  Pharisee  had 
6* 


106  LECTUKE    VII. 

given  no  kiss  of  peace  ;  but  tlie  penitent  liad  not  ceased 
to  kiss  liis  feet.  This,  even  among  tlie  lieatlien,  was  a 
token  of  reverence  and  subjection.  Sir  Robert  Kerr 
Porter  received  it  from  a  Persian,  on  whom  he  had  con- 
ferred some  favor.  He  had  furnished  no  anointing  ;  she 
had  brought  the  costly  alabaster-box,  and  the  finest 
ointment,  to  express  her  devout  gratitude  to  him  who 
had  redeemed  her  souL  Her  love  was  founded  upon  a 
knowledg'e  of  that  holiness  which  was  entirely  in  con- 
trast with  her  own  sinfulness  ;  and  likewise  in  the  im- 
measurable benefit  he  had  conferred  on  her. 

There  is  another  hindrance  to  our  exercising  love 
and  gratitude  toward  Christ,  which  a  right  sense  of  our 
sins  removes. 

3.  It  is  obstinacy.  Dependence  on  Christ  is  a  vol- 
untary state ;  and  so  is  independence  of  him.  None 
but  Christ  can  save  us ;  and  he  will  save  only  those 
who  earnestly  commit  themselves  to  him.  Whatever 
then  will  break  up  this  obstinacy  of  the  heart,  will  pre- 
pare us  to  appreciate  his  excellence  and  our  indebted- 
ness to  him.  We  are  absolutely  dependent  on  Christ 
for  salvation  ;  and  the  extent  of  our  necessities,  which 
he,  and  he  alone  can  supply,  is  beyond  all  our  powers 
of  computation.  And  yet  our  self-righteous,  proud 
and  obstinate  hearts  refuse  to  admit  the  evidence  of  our 
bankruptcy,  our  utter  helplessness ;  and  consequently 
they  prevent  our  seeing  the  greatness  of  his  love,  and 
the  immense  blessings  he  has  procured  for  us.  So  long 
as  pride  and  a  good  opinion  of  ourselves  possess  the 
heart,  we  are  rather  repelled,  than  attracted  by  a  large 
portion  of  Christ's  sayings  and  actions.  The  Jews  were 
continually  looking  for  a  political  deliverer,  because  they 
iid  not  know  their  need  of  a  spiritual  deliverer.     And 


THE    TWO    DEBTORS.  107 

hence  tliey  were  constantly  disappointed  in  Christ ; 
looking  for  magnificent  displays  of  intellectual  and  po- 
litical power,  there  Avas  no  form  nor  comeliness  in  him 
as  a  Saviour  of  the  sinful  soul.  Instead  of  being  what 
they  desired,  they  found  him  attending  to  the  cry  of 
a  poor  beggar ;  taking  little  children  to  his  arms ; 
washing  his  disciples'  feet ;  receiving  the  homage  of 
outcasts  from  society ;  and  prizing  it  more  than  the 
sumptuous  entertainments  of  the  wealthy.  Pride  can 
see  nothing  attractive  in  his  position,  when  he  pro- 
nounces the  humble  blessed,  and  promises  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  to  the  lowly  in  heart.  Self-righteousness  is 
not  drawn  towards  him,  when  he  invites  the  weary  and 
heavy-laden  to  come  to  him.  As  we  see,  the  effect  on 
the  Pharisees  was,  to  shock  their  morbid  consciences, 
to  alarm  their  fears,  and  disgust  their  love  of  caste. 
Their  self-complacency  rendered  them  incapable  of  ap- 
preciating the  character  of  (Christ,  because  they  es- 
teemed their  own ;  his  love  to  men,  for  they  knew 
no  such  sentiment  ;  his  work  of  mercy,  for  they 
had  no  consciousness  of  its  adaptedness  to  man's  ne- 
cessities. 

But  when  the  soul  is  brought  to  feel  that  it  must 
have  spiritual  help,  and  that  none  but  Christ  can  fur- 
nish that,  then  it  can  begin  both  to  depend  upon  him, 
and  to  admire  that  infinite  condescension  and  grace 
which  adapt  him  to  the  wants  of  men.  And  the  more 
the  sense  of  our  guilt  and  corruption  drives  us  to  him ; 
makes  us  study  his  word,  to  enlarge  our  views  of  liis 
character,  to  familiarize  the  mind  to  his  peculiar,  glo- 
rious image  ;  the  more  varied  the  discovery  of  our  own 
spiritual  wants,  by  which  we  discover  the  variety  of  his 


108  LECTUKE  vn. 

excellent  qualities,  the  deeper  and  stronger  does  onr 
love  to  him  become. 

In  the  narrative  then  before  us  wo  have  these  two 
contrasted  feelings  vividly  embodied  in  Kving  charac- 
ters. We  have  not  the  means  of  determining  how  much 
the  woman  knew  of  Christ,  or  whether  she  had  received 
from  his  lips  the  word  of  pardon  before.  But  she  be- 
lieved in  him  as  her  Saviour.  And  gratitude  mingled 
with  her  reverence  and  love ;  for  Christ  says  :  "  She 
loved  much,  for  she  had  much  forgiven."  Her  feelings 
were  intense,  but  not  extravagant.  Christ  knows  what 
is  involved  in  forgiveness  from  God.  And  he  is  wil- 
ling that  the  pardoned  sinner  shall  exult  in  it.  The 
past,  that  had  been  filled  only  with  the  images  of  her 
degradation,  was  now  changed  in  its  relations  to  her. 
It  could  humble  her,  but  no  more  crush  her  with  de- 
spondency. It  now  served  to  reveal  her  in  contrast 
with  herself.  She  was  changed ;  and  was  very  con- 
scious of  the  glorious  transformation.  She  looked 
within,  and  saw  a  purified,  peaceful  spirit,  free  in  its 
submission  to  God;  joined  to  all  the  good,  in  its  dispo- 
sitions and  pursuits.  She  looked  to  God ;  and  He 
frowned  no  more.  "  I  have  blotted  out,"  he  says,  "  for 
ever,  thy  transgressions,  as  a  thick  cloud."  And  here 
sits  before  her  the  Being  to  whom  she  is  indebted,  not 
only  for  the  assurance  of  it,  but  for  the  pardon  itself. 
Is  it  wonderful  that  she  should  weep  ?  Is  it  strange 
that  she  should  rejoice  ;  that  she  should  love  ? 

And  there  sits  the  Pharisee.  Can  he  see  the  glory 
of  that  Redeemer  ?  Ko.  Can  he  feel  the  cords  of 
gratitude  binding  him  to  that  Friend  of  our  lost 
race  ?  No ;  his  obstinate  refusal  to  relinquish  high 
thoughts   of  himself,  to   repent  and   cast  himself  on 


THK    TWO    DEBTORS.  109 

Christ,  lias  put  an  eternal  harrier  hctween  him  and  his 
Saviour. 

The  men  held  np  in  the  Scriptures  as  attaining  to 
great  eminence,  exhibit  most  prominently  the  depths 
of  penitence,  and  fervor  of  love  to  Christ.  Paul  cries 
out  in  view  of  his  sins  :  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am, 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body  of  death  ? "  Did  he 
love  Christ  ?  What  are  his  letters,  but  glowing  pages 
burning  with  almost  seraphic  ardor  of  love  to  his  Re- 
deemer ! 

It  is  then  evident,  that  the  degree  of  our  love  to 
Christ  depends  upon  the  clearness  and  fulness  of  our 
conviction  of  sin,  and  the  simplicity  and  strength  of  our 
faith  in  him.  The  more  we  see  of  the  evil  to  which 
our  souls  have  been  exposed,  the  more  grateful  shall 
we  be  for  onr  deliverance.  Tlie  more  absolutely  we 
depend  upon  Christ,  and  trace  all  to  him,  the  more 
deeply  shall  we  feel  our  indebtedness. 

And  this  consideration  shows  us  how  indispensable 
it  is  that  men  should  hear  what  are  considered  ih& 
strong  doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  Some  systems  of  reli- 
gion are  commended  for  their  gentleness  and  agreea- 
bleness.  But  a  Gospel  which  flatters  men,  and  comforts 
them  in  their  impenitence,  will  never  bring  them  to 
that  love  and  gratitude  which  the  Saviour  commends  in 
this  penitent  woman.  The  gentleness  of  the  Gospel 
does  not  lie  where  many  suppose,  but  in  its  treatment 
of  the  penitent.  All  false  systems  either  fail  by  extending 
their  consolations  to  the  impenitent,  or  by  refusing  them 
to  the  penitent.  But  Christ  opens  up  to  us  without  re- 
serve the  horrible  view  of  our  depravity,  our  guilt,  our 
fearful  prospects  out  of  him.     And  by  the  terror  of  the 


> 


110  LECTURE    VII. 

Lord  lie  persuades  us  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  And  it 
is  in  this  deep  view  of  our  ruin  that  we  learn  to  lo^  e 
Christ,  and  to  cherish  gratitude  towards  him.  There 
is  immense  danger  in  any  vicious  course.  'No  one 
can  tell  when  he  is  crushing  the  last  germ  of  life  in  his 
soul.  But  the  dangers  of  the  self-righteous  spirit  are 
perhaps  even  greater.  It  seems  to  remove  the  soul 
even  farther  from  Christ  and  heaven.  It  camiot  repent ; 
for,  it  has  no  sense  of  the  evil  of  its  transgressions ; 
tliej  seem  to  it  to  be  trivial,  because  it  has  perverted 
the  true  moral  standard  within,  and  formed  its  judg- 
ments, not  by  God's  standard,  but  its  own.  It  so  keeps 
the  life  within  the  bounds  of  propriety  as  to  prevent  the 
conscience  from  being  disturbed.  It  has  public  senti- 
ment, too,  in  its  favor.  And  it  fosters  that  egotism  and 
pride  which  are  harder  to  conquer  than  the  passions 
themselves.  There  is  therefore  true,  enlightened  kind- 
ness, only  in  preaching  the  strong  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel. 

We  may  inquire  how  we  are  testifying  our  love  and 
gratitude  to  ChHst,  Has  he  loved  us  with  a  love  with 
which  no  other  love  can  be  compared  ?  Was  yours  an 
utter  bankrujDtcy,  hopeless  and  helpless  ?  And  did  he 
come  to  your  relief ;  and  has  he  relieved  you,  blotting 
out  every  sentence  of  condemnation  recorded  against 
you  ?  Has  he  placed  you  among  the  children  of  God, 
and  opened  to  you  the  gates  of  the '  heavenly  city  ? 
Tlieu  you  must  have  wept  at  his  feet ;  then  you  are 
ready  to  bring  the  alabaster  box  of  precious  ointment, 
and  pour  it  on  his  feet.  With  you  this  expression  of 
love  may  be  a  patient  enduring  of  severe  trials  at 
his  hand ;  a  sacrifice  of  some  earthly  honor,  or  pos- 
session, or  comfort,  that  you  may  be  unencumbered 


THE   TWO   DEBTORS.  Ill 

for  liis  service.  It  may  be  special  efforts  to  culti- 
vate your  sjiirit  for  extraordinary  service ;  a  conse- 
cration of  yourself  or  some  beloved  cliild  to  foreign 
service. 

In  whatever  way,  liow  does  your  love  and  grati- 
tude manifest  itself? 


LECTUKE  VIII. 

THE  LABOKEKS  PAID ;  OR,  HUMILITY  IN  EE6AKD  TO  OUR  MERITS. 

Matt.  xx.  1-16.  "  For  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  man 
that  is  a  householder,  which  went  out  early  in  the  morning  to  hire  labour- 
ers into  his  vineyard.  And  when  he  had  agreed  with  the  labourers  for  a 
penny  a  day,  he  sent  them  into  his  vineyard.  And  he  went  out  about  the 
third  hour,  and  saw  others  standing  idle  in  the  marketplace,  and  said  unto 
them  ;  Go  ye  also  into  the  vineyard,  and  whatsoever  is  right  I  will  give 
you.  And  they  went  their  way.  Again  he  went  out  about  the  sixth  and 
ninth  hour,  and  did  likewise.  And  about  the  eleventh  hour  he  went  out, 
and  found  others  standing  idle,  and  saith  unto  them,  "Why  stand  ye  here 
all  the  day  idle  ?  They  say  unto  him.  Because  no  man  hath  Mied  us. 
He  saith  unto  them,  Go  ye  also  into  the  vineyard  ;  and  whatsoever  is  right, 
that  shaU  ye  receive.  So  when  even  was  come,  the  lord  of  the  vineyard 
saith  unto  his  steward,  Call  the  labourers,  and  give  them  their  hire,  begin- 
ning from  the  last  unto  the  first.  And  when  they  came  that  were  hired 
about  the  eleventh  hour,  they  received  every  man  a  penny.  But  when  the 
first  came,  they  supposed  that  they  should  have  received  more ;  and  they 
likewise  received  every  man  a  penny.  And  when  they  had  received  it, 
they  murmured  against  the  good  man  of  the  house,  saying,  These  last 
have  wrought  hut  one  hour,  and  thou  hast  made  them  equal  unto  us,  which 
have  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day.  But  he  answered  one  of  them 
and  said,  Friend,  I  do  thee  no  wrong  :  didst  thou  not  agree  with  me  for  a 
penny  ?  Take  that  thine  is,  and  go  thy  way :  I  will  give  unto  this  last, 
even  as  unto  thee.  Is  it  not  lawful  for  me  to  do  what  I  will  with  mine 
own  ?  Is  thine  eye  evil,  because  I  am  good  ?  So  the  last  shall  be  first, 
and  the  first  last :  for  many  be  called,  but  few  chosen." 

Luke  xvii.  7-10.  "  But  which  of  you,  having  a  servant  ploughing 
or  feeding  cattle,  wUl  say  unto  him  by  and  by,  when  he  is  come  from  the 


THE    LiVBOKEKS    PAID.  113 

field,  Go  and  sit  down  to  meat  ?  And  will  not  rather  say  unto  him,  Make 
ready  wherewith  I  may  sup,  and  gird  thyself,  and  serve  me,  till  I  have 
eaten  and  drunken  ;  and  afterward  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink  ?  Doth  he 
thank  that  sei-vant  because  he  did  the  things  that  were  commanded  him  ? 
I  trow  not.  So  likewise  ye,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  those  things  which 
are  commanded  you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants :  we  have  done  that 
which  was  our  duty  to  do." 

"We  shall  find  tliese  two  passages  to  have  the  same 
scope.  The  first  compares  the  administration  of  Christ's 
kingdom  on  earth  to  a  farmer  employing  laborers.  In 
eastern  countries,  and  even  in  Europe,  the  custom  still 
remains,  of  farmers  going  into  the  markets  to  hire 
reapers  who  have  assembled  from  neighboring,  and 
even  remote  districts.  This  man  goes  out  at  several 
distinct  hours,  engaging  men  to  work  in  his  vineyard. 
Some  are  hired  at  the  very  first  working  hour,  at  a 
fixed,  and,  probably,  the  ordinary  price,  of  a  jDenny  or 
denarius  a  day  ;  which  is  equal  to  fifteen  cents.  The 
others  leave  the  rate  of  wages  to  the  option  of  their 
employer.  In  the  evening  the  steward  is  ordered  to 
bring  them  together,  that  they  may  receive  their  com- 
pensation. Beginning  at  those  hired  only  an  hour 
before,  he  pays  them  the  denarius  ;  and  so  goes  through 
the  whole  company,  paying  all  the  same.  This  sur- 
prises and  off'ends  those  who  have  been  working  twelve 
hours  ;  that  they  should  receive  the  same  compensation 
with  those  who  had  labored  only  one  hour,  and  that 
in  the  cooler  hour  of  the  evening.  The  employer  re- 
plies to  them,  that  he  did  them  no  injustice  ;  that  he 
had  a  right  to  pay  the  others  as  much  as  he  pleased, 
without  consulting  them  ;  and  that  his  generosity  should 
not  excite  their  envy. 

The  other  parable  refers  to  the  customs  of  society 


114  LECTURE   VIII. 

concerning  a  man  wlio  serves  another.  If  lie  were 
employed  as  a  farm-laborer  and  a  liouse-servant,  lie 
would  not  expect  wlien  returning  from  the  field  to  be 
served  bj  his  employer,  but  would  wait  on  him. 

These  simple  stories  or  parables  have  caused  much 
difficulty  to  commentators,  especially  the  former.  And 
the  reason  of  it  I  suppose  to  be,  that  the  shade  of  feel- 
ing they  are  designed  to  expose  is  one  of  the  most 
subtle  of  all  those  that  hinder  the  progress  of  spiritual 
life  ;  having  an  aim  somewhat  similar  to  those  of  the 
Prodigal  Son,  and  the  Pharisee  and  Publican,  yet 
striking  even  a  deeper  vein  than  they. 

The  doctrine  they  exhibit  is  this  : 

In  the  Gosjpel^  gratuity  is  more  jprominent  than  re- 
wards. 

The  Gospel  does  not  exclude  the  idea  of  rewards, 
but  presents  it  in  a  modified  form,  and  earnestly  guards 
the  heart  against  selfish  emulation,  boasting  or  claim- 
ing, in  reference  to  others ;  and  against  dealing  with 
God  on  a  q;uid  jpro  quo  or  hireling  principle.  I  would 
now  allude  to  one  or  two  expositions.  It  has  been 
maintained  by  some  that  this  parable  presents 

"^  vindication  of  rewards  hy  tnerity  But  see 
what  difficulties  attend  this.  That  merit  should  be  re- 
warded is  a  truism  belonging  to  the  light  of  nature. 
Even  heathen  philosophy  contains  it.  Pewarding  ac- 
cording to  merit  is  the  grand  principle  of  natural  jus- 
tice, which  it  did  not  require  a  teacher  from  heaven  to 
explain.  If  that  were  all  Christ  meant  to  teach,  no 
jjarable  would  have  been  necessary  ;  for  it  is  a  princi- 
ple of  nature,  that  every  man  reaps  as  he  sows.  And 
our  Lord  is  not  here  teaching  a  truth  of  nature,  but  a 
truth  of  grace ;   and  one  somewhat  difficult  for  the 


THE    LABOKEKS    PAID.  115 

human  mind  to  receive  and  retain  ;  a  fundamental 
principle  of  the  new  dispensation  from  heaven.  He 
was  teaching  this  difficult  truth,  that  the  first  are  last, 
and  the  last  first ;  that  some  men  will  get  a  penny  for 
one  hour's  labor,  while  for  twelve  hours'  labor  others 
will  get  no  more.  Here  is  no  natural  justice  surel3\ 
But  in  order  to  reconcile  with  this  explanation  the  fact 
that  they  all  received  a  penny  apiece,  it  has  been  said 
that  the  laborers  hired  last  accomplished  as  much  as 
the  first.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  nothing  would  be 
more  important  to  state  in  the  parable  than  that,  and 
that  the  omission  of  such  an  indispensable  point  from 
the  parable  would  be  fatal  to  it,  if  it  were  intended  to 
teach  that  men  are  rewarded  according  to  their  merit. 
Others  have  attempted  to  remove  this  difficulty  by 
affirming  that  the  labor  of  the  last  was  more  valuable 
than  that  of  the  first ;  and  that  thus  the  parable  was 
intended  to  teach  that  quality  is  as  important  as  quan- 
tity in  laboring  for  God.  But  why  then  does  not  the 
employer  vindicate  himself  on  that  obvious  ground  ? 
No  such  thing  is  said.  He  throws  himself  back  on 
principles  more  remote  ;  on  his  absolute  proprietorship, 
and  his  rights.  Will  is  one  thing,  justice  another. 
The  defence  here  set  up  is  :  sovereign  will,  and  the 
right  to  exercise  it.  "  Have  I  not  a  right  to  do  what  I 
will  with  my  own  ?  "  It  has  been  an  utter  perversion 
of  this  parable  to  apply  the  eleventh  hour  laborers  to 
conversions  late  in  life  as  the  main  point.  To  be  so,  it 
would  be  necessary  that  all  such  persons  could  say : 
"  we  are  unemployed,  because  no  man  hath  ofi'ered  us 
employment."  We  are  not  converted  sooner  because 
we  have  not  heard  the  GospeL  Whatever  encourage- 
ment it  gives  to  those  who  may  have  entered  into  the 


116  LECTURE   VIII. 

service  late,  it  gives  no  encouragement  to  entering  it 
late.  The  scope  of  the  parable  is  not  found  there ;  that 
is  merely  a  part  of  its  drapery. 

Some  have  apjplied  it  to  the  Jews,  as  a  warning  to 
them  against  despising  Gentile  converts.  Then  there 
ought  to  have  been  only  two  invitations,  instead 
of  four  or  five.  But  this  narrows  the  subject  to  a 
degree  that  is  insufferable,  and  utterly  removes  the 
parable  from  the  occasion  of  its  delivery.  It  was  not 
the  envious,  conceited  Jews  whom  the  Lord  here  ad- 
dressed, but  his  Christian  disciples,  who  had  not  mani- 
fested any  contempt  for  Gentile  converts,  of  whom 
they  as  yet  knew  nothing. 

Some  consider  the  parable  "  a  warning  against  re- 
infhissnessP  Then  prominence  should  have  been  given 
to  the  fact  that  the  earliest  hired  were  remiss.  But 
nothing  of  the  kind  appears.  The  groimd  of  vindi- 
cation is  totally  different  from  this.  If  it  were  their 
want  of  diligence  that  caused  their  wages  to  be  no 
more  than  those  of  the  other  workmen,  the  lord  of  the 
vineyard  would  have  assigned  that  reason,  instead  of 
putting  it  on  the  ground  of  sovereignty ;  "  have  I  not 
a  right  to  do  what  I  will  with  my  own  ?  " 

We  can  accept  neither  of  these  explanations.  Tlie 
manifest  design  of  the  parable  is,  to  inculcate  humility 
in  estimating  our  own  good  deeds  ;  charity,  in  looking 
upon  the  rewards  bestowed  on  others ;  and  confiding 
submission  in  putting  ourselves,  our  good  deeds,  and 
our  compensation  into  the  hands  of  God  our  Redeemer. 
To  inculcate  these  practical  principles  the  theory  taught 
in  the  parable  is,  that 

The  rewards  of  heaven,  while  according  withjusticey 
are  modijled  hy  grace. 


THE    LAB0EEE8    PAID  117 

Peter  having  seen  the  rich  young  ruler  refuse 
to  become  poor  for  Christ's  sake,  and  having  heard 
Christ  declare  that  the  rich  can  hardly  enter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  replied  by  inquiring  what  re- 
ward they  should  have  who  had  left  all  for  him. 
The  answer  was — that  they  should  have  great  rewards. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  they  who  had  done  much  and 
forsaken  much  for  Christ,  must  be  warned  of  the 
danger  of  contemplating  their  sacrifices  in  a  self- 
complacent  spirit.  A  mercenary  spirit  might  come 
in  there,  to  mar  much  good,  and  make  the  first  last. 
To  warn  them  against  pride,  and  to  check  the  hireling 
spirit,  was  the  design  of  this  parable.  And  by  forget- 
ting that,  all  the  embarrassment  of  interpreting  it  has 
been  created.  It  was  not  a  warning  to  the  unhappy 
young  man  who  refused  to  follow  Jesus ;  for  he  had 
gone  sorrowful  away.  It  was  not  addressed  to  the  self- 
righteous  Pharisees,  nor  to  the  heedless  multitude,  but 
to  the  faithful  disciples.  It  was,  to  show  them  that 
while  the  spirit  of  self-renunciation  and  zeal  would  be 
rewarded,  there  was  something  still  higher  than  that 
reward ;  it  was,  to  possess  the  spirit  of  humility,  and  of 
unreserved  submission  and  confidence.  Peter's  spirit 
was  right,  and  his-  inquiry  was  legitimate  ;  and  yet  the 
tendency  of  looking  much  in  that  direction  is  danger- 
ous. Humility  is  the  only  grace  that  seems  to  live  out 
of  the  reach  of  danger.  It  is  the  safeguard  and  shield 
of  all  the  other  graces,  as  well  as  the  inheritor  of  the 
richest  blessings.  The  evil  involved  in  his  inquiry  was, 
that  it  put  his  relations  to  the  Saviour  on  a  mercenary 
footing,  that  of  wages  ;  so  much  work,  so  much  pay. 
There  was  rather  too  eager  a  looking  for  recompense  ; 
a  somewhat  selfish  gi-asping  at  the  rewards  of  obe- 


118  LECTURE    VIII. 

dience.  And  tlicre  was  also  some  degree  of  self-com- 
placency  in  comparing  liis  noble  self-renunciation  with 
that  man's  avarice.  All  this  needed  to  be  corrected. 
And  it  is  corrected  by  these  parables ;  which  are  not 
a  prophecy  of  wdiat  will  be,  but  a  warning  against  the 
tendency  of  certain  dispositions  ;  against  pride,  the  want 
of  charity,  and  imagining  a  merit  in  their  sacrifices. 

None  of  the  other  explanations  of  this  parable 
which  I  have  mentioned,  meet  the  occasion  in  any  de- 
gree. This  does  :  it  shows  that  pride  will  destroy  love  ; 
will  even  lead  us  to  murmur  against  our  righteous 
sovereign  and  bounteous  benefactor ;  to  envy  towards 
our  more  favored  brethren,  and  an  opposition  to  the 
very  grace  by  which  we  are  saved. 

I  conceive  then  that  the  laborers  represent  not  per- 
sons but  principles ;  and  all  other  explanations  make 
the  parable  so  unnatural  that  their  advocates  have  been 
compelled  to  resort,  as  we  see,  to  violent  alterations 
and  forced  accommodations  of  the  text.  Either  they 
make  all  rewards  in  heaven  to  be  equal,  by  making  the 
penny  apiece  the  burden  of  the  parable  ;  or,  they  make 
the  patriarchs  murmur  in  heaven  at  seeing  the  Gentiles 
blessed,  by  making  it  refer  to  the  Jews  particularly  ;  or, 
they  throw  away  the  very  moral  of  the  story  as  given 
by  our  Teacher ;  which  is,  that  self-denial  with  all  its 
importance  is  not  as  great,  as  diificult,  or  as  noble  a 
grace  as  humility. 

In  this  view  the  parable  of  the  servant  returning 
from  the  field,  inculcates  the  same  lesson  in  a  different 
aspect  of  it.  Tlie  eager  grasping  after  our  reward,  the 
exact  measurement  of  our  merits,  is  an  inconsistency 
with  the  dispensation  of  grace.  If  we  stand  on  wages, 
then  we  may  get  only  the  wages  of  grace  itself,  fo]' 


TIIK    LABORERS    PAID.  119 

there  are  such.  But  if  we  always  count  ourselves  un- 
profitable servants ;  at  the  best,  having  done  nothhig 
more  than  our  duty ;  if,  after  ploughing,  we  are  willing 
to  come  and  still  serve  in  the  house,  until  our  gracious 
Lord  is  ready  to  have  us  repose  and  refresh  ourselves 
at  his  table,  then  we  shall  be  truly  first,  while  least  in 
our  own  estimation  ;  and  there  is  no  other  way  of  being 
first  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

The  ground  we  have  gone  over,  is  then  this.  We 
have  objected  to  the  explanation  which  makes  the 
parable  a  vindication  of  the  justice  of  God  in  reward- 
ing men  ;  for,  if  there  is  here  any  vindication,  it  is  not 
of  equal  rewards  for  equal  labor,  but  for  unequal,  of 
paying  as  much  for  one  hour  as  twelve.  And  then  it 
is  asserted  in  other  parts  of  the  Scriptures  that  the  re- 
wards of  heaven  are  to  be  very  various  in  degree.  One 
star  will  diifer  from  another  in  the  glorious  firmament. 
The  first  shall  be  last.  We  object  also  to  applying  the 
parable  to  eleventh-hour  conversions,  as  in  any  degree 
a  special  point  of  its  doctrine.  But  the  occasion  of  its 
deliverance,  the  maxims  which  precede  and  follow  it, 
and  its  whole  drift  lead  us  to  suppose  that  it  presents 
these  laborers,  not  as  resembling  us  in  our  work  or  our 
rewards,  but  rather  to  illustrate  these  princijDles  ;  that 
the  rewards  of  grace  are  gratuitous  even  when  prom- 
ised ;  and  that  grace  will  bestow  many  rewards  that 
are  not  promised  ;  that  there  is  nowhere  any  room  for 
boasting ;  confirming  the  great  principle  afterward  so 
strongly  presented  by  Paul  in  his  letters  to  the  churches 
in  Rome  and  Galatia ;  "  now  to  him  that  worketh  is 
the  reward  not  reckoned  of  grace,  but  of  debt.  But 
to  him  that  worketh  not,  but  believeth  on  him  that 
justifieth  the  ungodly,  his  faith  is  counted  for  righteous- 


120  LECTURE   VIII. 

neBS.''  At  the  best  we  are  unprofitable  servants,  and 
slioiild  ever  feel  it.  In  the  Saviour's  account  of  the 
last  judgment,  he  describes  the  righteous  as  wondering 
what  they  have  ever  done  that  can  be  so  rewarded. 
Their  spirit  is  in  direct  contrast  with  that  of  the  men 
who  had  been  first  hired.  "  Lord,  when  ....  saw  we 
thee  a  hungered,  and  gave  thee  no  meat  ?  " 

It  is  evident  that  the  Saviour  attached  great  im- 
portance to  the  maxim,  "  the  first  shall  be  last,  and  the 
last  first."  It  is  put  at  the  beginning  of  this  parable, 
and  then  repeated  at  the  end ;  a  case  without  j)arallel 
in  his  teaching.  And  whatever  therefore  fails  to  ex- 
plain that,  fails  to  exj)lain  the  parable.  It  does  not 
mean  that  the  first  in  privilege  shall  be  last  in  reward  ; 
if  it  was  designed  as  a  continuation  of  his  answer  to 
the  inquiry,  what  shall  we  have  that  have  forsaken  all  ? 
it  must  meet  the  state  of  mind  involved  in  that  inquiry, 
which  was,  partly,  a  spirit  of  trustful  reliance  upon  the 
promise  of  God,  that  he  would  compensate  for  all  sac- 
rifices made  in  his  cause.  But  there  was  mingled  with 
it  too  much  self-complacency,  and  too  eager  a  regard 
to  recompense  for  service.  Tlierefore  the  maxim  of  our 
Lord  must  mean  that  even  the  most  advanced  in  sacri- 
fices and  toils  for  him  may  come  short  of  others  who 
are  more  honored  in  God's  sight ;  they  who  have  com- 
bined with  their  sacrifices  and  toils  a  self-abasing  and 
unpretending  spirit.  These  first  hired  had  an  envious, 
murmuring  spirit  in  connection  with  their  diligence. 
They  misapprehended  justice,  and  contested  with  grace ; 
they  murmured  at  their  employer,  and  envied  their 
fellow-laborers.  It  cannot  be  questioned,  I  think,  tliat 
the  parable  was  designed  lo  reprove  that  spirit,  and 
that  the  strength  of  it  lies  in  the  reply :  "  Friend,"  or 


THE    LABORERS    PAID.  121 

sir,  "I  do  thee  no  wrong."  In  giving  thee  a  pvinny,  I 
meet  the  claims  of  justice,  and  keep  my  word.  "  Didst 
thou  not  agree  with  me  for  a  penny  ?  Is  it  not  lawful 
for  me  to  do  what  I  will  with  mine  own  ?  Is  thine  eye 
evil  because  I  am  good  ? "  Is  it  not  envy  that  sees 
only  wrong  in  my  kindness  to  others  ? 

We  QTiust  tJien  hold  the  doctrine  of  rewards  in  a 
modesty  humhle  sjnrit.  There  are  rewards  offered  by 
the  Gospel.  How  glorious  is  that  here  promised  to 
Peter ;  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  which  have 
followed  me  in  the  regeneration,  when  the  Son  of  man 
shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory,  ye  also  shall  sit 
upon  twelve  thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of 
Israel ;  shall  receive  a  hundred  fold,  and  shall  inherit 
everlasting  life."  And  it  is  right  that  we  should  be 
greatly  affected  by  such  promises.  Moses  had  respect 
to  the  recompense  of  reward.  Our  Redeemer,  "for 
the  joy  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross."  The  Gos- 
pel abounds  in  promises  conditioned  on  certain  actions, 
if  they  include  a  right  spirit.  It  must  be  our  duty  to 
be  appropriately  affected  by  these  promised  blessings  ; 
that  is,  to  desire  them  earnestly. 

But  nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  the  Gospel 
than  that  it  is  the  broad  sphere  in  which  sovereign 
GOODNESS  acts.  Justicc  has  its  full  operation  in  this 
dispensation,  but  in  a  subordinate  sphere.  "  Grace 
reigns  by  righteousness  through  Jesus  Christ."  It  was 
to  answer  no  claim  of  ours  that  Christ  came  into  the 
world  ;  that  the  Holy  Spirit  descended  ;  that  he  enters 
any  of  our  poor  hearts,  that  he  continues  there  to  the 
end  ;  tliat  our  sins  are  forgiven,  our  petitions  for  favors 
answered,  and  our  souls  saved.  "  Salvation  is  by  grace, 
6 


122  LECTURE   VIII. 

througli  faith."  "  Of  liis  own  will  begat  he  us."  "  Ot 
lum,  and  through  him,  and  to  him  are  all  things.'' 
"  The  gift  of  God  is  eternal  life."  Now,  if  om'  minds 
should  be  fixed  wholly  upon  rewards,  and  our  good 
deeds  and  attainments,  pride  must  come  in.  Paul  had 
attained  to  a  very  definite  anticipation  of  the  crown 
of  life  ;  yet  how  lie  glories  in  exalting  his  Redeemer, 
in  ascribing  all  to  grace  ;  how  foolish  it  seems  to  him 
to  tell  wdiat  he  had  done  and  suffered,  even  when  the 
sacred  cause  he  loved,  demanded  that  he  should.  There 
is  a  full  manifestation  of  the  free  action  of  the  divine 
will,  even  in  nature.  God  hath  made  us  what  we 
are  ;  hath  placed  us  where  we  are.  Therefore  we  are 
warned  never  to  boast  of  our  endowments,  our  posi- 
tion, or  our  achievements,  as  though  we  had  not  re- 
ceived them  all  from  God.  "  Let  not  the  wise  man 
glory  in  his  w^isdom,  neither  let  the  mighty  man  glory 
in  his  might ;  let  not  the  rich  man  glory  in  his  riches, 
but  let  him  that  glorieth,  glory  in  this,  that  he  under- 
standeth  and  knoweth  me." 

To  say  notliing  here  of  the  spirit  of  self-righteous- 
ness, which  makes  men  hope  for  heaven  through  their 
own  goodness,  there  is  abundant  opportunity  for  pride 
to  work  iu  the  heart,  even  after  it  has  renounced  its 
own  righteousness,  and  submitted  to  the  righteousness 
•of  God.  It  rises  in  the  heart  of  the  convert  who  has 
just  made  a  few  attainments  ;  has  given  up  a  little  for 
his  Redeemer,  and  made  some  apparent  progress,  even 
beyond  older  disciples.  He  is  now  ready  to  be  flat- 
tered ;  jealous  of  being  overlooked  ;  pleased  with  him- 
self ;  ready  to  wonder  at  his  superiority  to  many  others ; 
thinks  his  own  prospects  very  bright,  and  those  of  the 
greater  part  of  tlie  Church,  at  least,  questionable.     A 


THE    LjVBOKEKS    PAID.  123 

more  advanced  believer  is  exposed  to  this  subtle  snare 
when  he  has  made  some  decided  progress,  accomplished 
some  important  service,  made  some  severe  sacrifice  to 
duty,  or  enjoyed  some  esjjecial  communion  with  God. 
In  fact  every  Christian  is  exposed  to  some  degree  or 
form  of  it.  And  therefore  it  is  important  that  we  hold 
such  views  of  our  demerit,  and  of  the  perfect  freedom 
of  divine  grace,  that  we  shall  not  give  place  to  this  in- 
sinuating self-fiattery. 

One  efiect  of  pride  is  presented  to  our  view  in  the 
suggestion,  that  the  servant  might  be  disposed  to  look 
to  his  own  comfort  when  returning  from  the  field,  in- 
stead of  attending  to  the  work  that  belonged  to  his 
oflice.  So  we  may  sometimes  feel  that  we  have  done 
so  much,  as  to  make  us  more  willing  to  repose  than  to 
continue  our  labors.  Thus  it  makes  us  relax  our  efforts, 
by  an  over-estimate  of  the  importance  of  that  which 
we  have  done.  God  has  indeed  been  pleased  to  attach 
certain  expressions  of  his  approbation  to  our  good 
actions  ;  but  we  must  never  forget  that  we  are  in- 
debted to  his  grace  for  our  good  intentions  and  the 
execution  of  them  ;  that  a  man  cannot  be  profitable  to 
God  as  to  a  fellow-man ;  that  all  rewards  are  them- 
selves really  gratuitous.  And  we  must  be  fully  recon- 
ciled to  these  facts,  or  we  can  have  no  real  piety.  The 
spirit  of  a  believer  is,  in  no  respects,  that  of  a  hireling  ; 
although  it  was  once  objected  to  Christianity  that  it 
promoted  a  mercenary  spirit.  Romanism  is  the  very 
embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  traffic.  It  deals  with  the 
quantity  of  good  works,  overlooking  their  quality.  It 
makes  an  open  account  with  heaven,  and  strikes  a 
balance  in  favor  of  the  Church.  It  charges  money  for 
pardons,  and  money  for  salvation.     The  whole  of  tliis 


124  LECTURE    VIII. 

spirit  is  hateful,  even  tlioiigli  it  bo  not  carried  so  far  as 
that  fearful  system  carries  it.  "What  shall  we  ha^^e 
if  we  do  so  much  and  sacrifice  so  much  ?  "  It  is  well 
to  look  at  the  glorious  things  promised,  and  to  strive 
for  our  crown  ;  but  if  we  stick  too  closely  to  the  idea 
of  reward,  we  are  in  danger  of  over-estimating  the  ex- 
cellence of  our  actions,  and  especially  their  merit. 
And  then  there  is  a  solemn  import  in  the  words  of  our 
Saviour  ;  "  the  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  first ;  for, 
many  are  called,  but  few  chosen."  "What  are  the  re- 
wards of  the  Gospel  ?  The  answer  to  that  will  illustrate 
the  meaning  of  this  phraseology.  If  these  rewards 
consisted  of  money,  or  lands,  or  merely  stations  of 
power,  we  might  not  so  easily  comprehend  the  para- 
mount importance  of  humility.  But  the  rewards  of 
heaven  are  chiefly  of  two  kinds  ;  one  of  which  we  may 
call  subjective,  or  the  expansion,  enlargement  and  com 
pletion  of  jjersonal  qualities.  In  this  sense  princii^les 
are  more  to  be  rewarded  than  actions.  And  therefore 
humility,  as  it  is  the  opposite  to  pride,  envy,  and  discon- 
tent, is  indispensable  for  enjoying  the  highest  blessed- 
ness of  heaven.  And  then,  of  those  rewards  which  are 
objective,  God's  love  and  communion  with  him  are  the 
highest.  But  nothing  is  more  essential  to  a  creature's 
communion  with  God  than  the  profoundest  humility. 
"  I  dwell,"  says  Jehovah,  "  with  him  that  is  contrite  and 
of  a  humble  spirit."  "We  may  then  be  first  in  every 
thing  else,  but  we  shall  be  last  in  the  favor  of  God  if 
we  lose  that  meek  and  lowly  spirit  which,  in  his  sight, 
is  of  great  price.  The  first  shall  be  last.  "We  have 
seen  men  fall  by  pride,  and  nations  perish  by  exalting 
themselves.     When  Ephraim  spake  trembling,  he  ex- 


THE   LABOKEKS    PAID.  125 

alted  himself  in  Israel ;  but  when  he  offended  in  Baal, 
he  died," 

"  Many  are  called,  but  few  chosen."  Of  the  many 
who  are  called  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  few  enter  so 
profoundly  into  the  peculiar  spirit  of  this  wonderful 
dispensation  as  to  appreciate  the  prominence  of  grace 
in  it.  Few  receive  the  amazing  grace  of  God  with 
that  deep  and  permanent  sense  of  their  unworthiness 
and  their  ill-desert,  which  enables  them  to  bear  the 
consciousness  of  exaltation,  the  joy  and  the  hopes 
imparted  by  the  Gospel,  without  any  increase  of  self- 
esteem,  any  pride  or  envy.  Few  are  chosen,  approved 
as  in  the  highest  class.  This  was  said  directly  to  Peter, 
and  he  ultimately  profited  by  it. 

The  practical  lesson  then  which  comes  out  of  this 
parable  is — to  guard  against  a  proud,  and  a  mercenary 
spirit.  Especially  should  we  look  well  to  our  concep- 
tion of  the  kind  of  rewards  we  expect  to  receive.  Too 
few  indeed  direct  their  thoughts  sufiiciently  to  "the 
recompense  of  reward ; "  and  yet,  without  having  the 
subject  in  our  thoughts  sufficiently  to  di-aw  the  affec- 
tions strongly  toward  heaven,  we  may  be  indulging  a 
conception  of  some  kind  of  reward  which  is  entirely 
foreign  to  that  perfect  state  of  existence.  If  we 
definitely  conceive  of  the  blessedness  of  heaven  as 
consisting  in  the  approbation  of  God,  communion  with 
him,  and  the  perfection  of  love  and  humility  in  our 
own  hearts,  we  shall  bestow  our  chief  care  upon  the 
cultm-e  of  those  excellencies  of  character  which  most 
please  God,  and  most  fit  us  for  the  blessed  society  of 
heaven.  This  will  guard  us  against  any  thing  like 
a  mercenary  spirit,  or  a  mere  outward  working  for 
wages. 


126  LECTUKE  vin. 

Let  us  keep  constantly  in  view  our  own  unwor 
thiness  and  demerit.  We  have  incurred  the  wrath 
of  God.  He  found  us  at  enmity  with  him.  lie  has 
freely  pardoned  us  indeed ;  but  we  can  never  for- 
give ourselves  if  we  have  a  right  apprehension  of 
our  sinfulness.  Never  then  can  we  murmur  at  what 
a  beneficent  Redeemer  bestows,  as  being  below  our 
deserts.  Never  shall  we  boast  of  our  attainments  or  our 
achievements. 

Let  us  be  careful  not  to  make  favorable  compari- 
sons of  our  own  labors  and  sacrifices  with  those  of  our 
brethren.  Peter  fell  into  that  fault,  and  received  the 
rebuke  couched  in  the  parable  of  the  laborers. 

Let  us  remember  that  salvation  is  wholly  of  grace, 
from  beginning  to  end.  Tliere  is  a  holding  out  of  re- 
wards to  quicken  our  diligence ;  but  they  are  not,  as 
the  old  divines  would  say,  rewards  of  condignity,  but 
of  congruity  ;  they  are  not  payments  of  wages,  not  a 
just  award  of  rights,  but  distributions  of  grace.  What 
then  if  we  should  find  others  whom  we  imagine  to  be 
inferior  to  ourselves  in  any  respect,  placed  above  us, 
or  rewarded  with  the  same  amount  as  we  ?  There  will 
be  no  envy,  nor  grudging ;  no  unhallowed  emulation  ; 
but  a  sincere  rejoicing  that  our  God  is  so  gracious,  and 
that  our  fellow-men^ are  so  much  blessed. 

Love  is  the  chief  grace,  and  humility  is  its  body- 
guard. Love  is  so  valuable  that  Christ  ^^^^ts  the 
highest  price  on  the  most  trivial  act  which  expresses 
it, — "  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  disci^Dles,  ye  did  it  unto  me."  The  slightest 
shade  of  the  feeling  of  personal  merit  j)revents  our 
full  appreciation  of  God's  kindness  to  us,  and  our  per- 
fect reconciliation  to  the  various  allotments  of  Provi- 


THE    LABOKEKS    PAID,  12  , 


deuce  here,  and  to  the  various  distribution  of  the 
rewards  of  heaven.  "  Have  I  not  a  rifflit  ? "  will 
be  the  eternal  challenge  from  the  throne.  "  Yea, 
Lord,"  will  be  the  eternal  response  of  all  that  dwel] 
around  it. 


LECTUEE  IX. 

THE  PHAEISEE  AND  THE   PUBLICAN ;   OE,  HUMILITY  IN  PRATER. 

Luke  kviii.  9-14.  "  Aod  he  spake  this  parable  uuto  certain  whicl 
trusted  iu  themselves  that  they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others :  Tvvc 
men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray ;  the  one  a  Pharisee,  and  the  othei 
a  publican.  The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with  himself:  God,  1 
thank  thee,  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulter- 
ers, or  even  as  this  publican.  I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all 
that  I  possess.  And  the  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so 
much  as  his  eyes  unto  heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  I  tell  you,  this  man  went  down  to  his  house  jus- 
tified rather  than  the  other :  for  every  one  that  exalteth  himself  shall  bo 
abased  ;  and  he  that  humbleth  liimself  shall  be  exalted." 

This  is  a  lofty  specimen  of  moral  jDainting,  in  which 
the  lesson  inculcated  is — "he  that  liumbleth  himself 
shall  be  exalted,  he  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be 
abased  ;  " — the  arrogant  assumption  of  excellence  whicli 
does  not  belong  to  us  will  exclude  us  from  that  grace 
which  can  truly  exalt  us.  Two  men  here  pass  before 
us  ;  they  are  on  their  way  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
coming  from  the  two  extremes  of  society,  as  the  world 
estimates  it.  The  one  had  established  a  reputation 
with  men  and  with  himself,  for  great  excellence  of 
character ;  the  other  has,  in  his  own  estimation,  no 
slaim  on  God's  approbation.     They  both  resort  to  the 


THE   PHARISEE    AND   THE    TDBLICAN.  129 

same  temple,  at  tlie  same  liour  of  j^nblic  prayer,  and 
at  the  same  iTistant ;  but  there  the  rcsembUmce  ceases. 
Then*  views,  feelmgs,  and  objects  are  unKke ;  then' 
manner  of  praying,  tlieir  exercises,  and  their  recej^tion 
are  in  complete  contrast.  And  by  having  them  bronght 
together  in  one  view,  we  may  observe  the  contrast  more 
distil  ctly.  As  w^e  see  them  approaching  the  house  of 
God,  (with  no  other  knowledge  of  them  than  that  the 
one  is  esteemed  a  very  excellent  man,  and  the  other 
belongs  to  a  class  exceedingly  oiFensive  to  his  fellows- 
citizens,  and  generally  regarded  as  personally  rapacious 
and  cruel,)  we  should  j)resume  totally  in  favor  of  the 
former.  We  have  forgotten,  however,  in  this  judg- 
ment, that  they  are  going  up  not  to  meet  man,  but  Him 
who  looketh  not  on  the  outward  appearance  ;  to  whom 
rank,  talents,  birth,  condition,  reputation  and  wealth 
are  no  recommendation.  All  that  meets  our  eye  thus 
far  is  a  pharisee  and  a  Publican.  Who,  may  naturally 
be  inquired,  can  liesitate  to  pronounce  between  them  ? 
Let  us  not  answer,  however,  until  we  have  observed 
more  closely  and  continuously.  We  shall  yet  discover 
in  these  men  the  personification  of  pride  and  humility ; 
both  at  the  altar  of  sacrifice  ;  both  in  the  presence  of 
the  Searcher  of  hearts  ;  both  aj)pealing  to  his  omnis- 
cient scrutiny. 

The  subject  of  the  parable  is  :  Self 'righteousness 
in  prayer  ^manswered,  %inhlest  /  liumility  in  2>^"cty&^'' 
answered  and  hlest. 

The  one  of  these  men,  we  are  told,  went  down  to 
his  house  justified,  rather  than  the  other.  He  was  ap- 
proved, accepted,  blest ;  the  other  unapproved,  un- 
accepted, unblest.  And  this  difi^erent  result  of  their 
respective  prayers  is  here  shown  to  be  occasioned  by  a 
6* 


130  LECTURE    IX. 

difference  in  the  spirit,  and  in  tlie  object  of  prayer 
"We  notice, 

I.  The  contrasted  spirit  of  their  praters. 

1.  In  the  one  we  see  Pride  /  in  the  other ^  Humility. 
tL  is  not  easy  to  say  mucli  about  tlie  manner  of  praying, 
without  doing  injury.  But  as  the  Master  has  given 
prominence  to  the  attitudes  and  motions  of  these  men, 
\NQ  may  safely  follow  him.  On  the  one  side  we  see  a 
man  entering  the  house  of  God,  looking  up  and  around, 
which  he  might  properly  do  if  his  heart  had  been  over- 
flowing with  thankfulness  to  God,  and  love  to  men. 
But  with  him  it  was  the  utterance  of  pride.  His  whole 
air  expreSlses  this  :  "  I  am  entirely  satisfied  with  my- 
self ;  and  I  take  it  for  granted  that  others  think  of  me 
as  I  do  of  myself."  .  "  He  stood  and  prayed  thus  with 
himself.^''  There  is  a  volume  in  that  phrase.  If  it  had 
been  private  prayer,  the  more  comjiletely  apart,  the 
better.  But  public  solitude  is  a  solecism,  of  which 
pride  alone  can  be  guilty.  All  it  had  to  do  with  other 
men,  was,  to  measure  its  superiority  to  them,  and  secure 
their  homage.  It  stands  apart,  cold,  selfish,  and  self- 
admiring.  There  are  no  common  interests  with  human 
nature  ;  no  tender  links  which  bind  it  to  the  family  of 
man.  Alone,  and  above  others  ;  that  is  the  essence  of 
pride,  whether  it  put  on  the  air  of  a  fashionable,  or 
of  a  saint.  This  man  did  differ  from  the  other  in  some 
points  ;  but  the  resemblance  was  in  a  hundred  things 
where  the  difference  was  in  one.  And,  moreover,  just 
in  the  points  where  they  differed  he  was  the  inferior. 
They  both  had  immortal  souls  ;  were  sinners  ;  had  sor- 
rows, sins,  trials,  temptations,  were  exposed  to  deatli ; 
had  need  of  divine  mercy.     Inteiiectually  considered, 


THE   PHARISEE    ^ND    THE    PUBLICAN.  131  ^ 

his  feelings  and  liis  conduct  were  contemptible  in  the 
sight  of  God  ;  but  morally,  there  was  no  crime  in  the 
publican's  life  comparable  to  this  heaven-msulting  self- 
complacency. 

The  parable,  we  are  told,  was  addressed  to  some 
who  were  conceited  of  their  own  righteousness,  and 
despised  others.  True  goodness  never  produced  that 
effect ;  false  goodness  always  does. 

But  was  he  not  grateful  to .  God  ?  No  ;  his  very 
gratitude  was  corrupted  by  this  venomous  principle. 
If  he  had  possessed  any  goodness  to  be  ascribed  to 
God,  modesty  would  have  reserved  the  recognition  of 
that  for  the  closet.  He  had  embraced  a  false  standard 
of  excellence  in  order  to  think  highly  of  himself ;  and 
then  he  came  to  insult  the  Deity  in  his  temple,  by  hold- 
ing it  up  before  him  and  before  men,  to  mislead  them. 
True  gratitude  had  no  companionship  with  that  unfair 
comparison  of  himself  with  his  neighbor,  and  that  con- 
tempt for  him.  True  gratitude  to  God  from  us  sinners 
will  always  refer  mainly  to  that  common  ground  on 
which  he  has  placed  us  all ;  and  then,  if  God  has  done 
for  us  what  he  has  not  done  for  others,  we  shall  be  most 
careful  to  recognize  that  it  is  he  who  hath  made  us 
differ. 

Now  leave  this  man  standing  alone,  and  turn  your 
attention  to  that  poor,  trembling  worshipper,  who 
scarcely  ventures  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  audi- 
ence-chamber of  the  Most  High.  The  first  thing  that 
strikes  you  is,  that  he  did  not  come  here  to  be  seen  of 
men.  There  is  nothing  in  his  dress  or  manner  that 
betrays  such  a  feeling.  His  business  is  with  God  ;  and 
since  the  King  has  appointed  the  interview  within  the 
temple,  a  corner  will  answer  as  well  as  any  other  place. 


132  LECTURE    IX. 

How  much  true  dignity  is  tliere  in  liis  worsliip  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  other.  The  one  went  in  with  the 
crowd,  and  then  withdrew  from  them  and  went  nearer 
the  altar,  because  he  thought  himself  more  worthy. 
Tlie  other  went  alone  too ;  not  into  a  conspicuous 
nor  exalted  place,  but  into  a  corner, — "  standing  afar 
oif "  describes  his  place.  He  wanted  to  express  his 
sense  of  moral  distance  from  God,  and  of  unfitness 
and  unworthiness  to  approach  him ;  and  then  he 
would  not  so  much  as  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  but 
smote  upon  his  breast  in  sorrow  and  self-reproach.  He 
could  not  look  toward  heaven,  for  he  had  offended  its 
King  ;  nor  to  the  altar,  for  it  condemned  him  ;  nor  to 
those  around  him,  for  they  could  not  help  him.  His 
case  was  so  desperate  that  no  angel  could  help  him. 
He  was  before  the  holy  God  of  heaven  a  sinner.  He 
needed  mercy,  mere  grace  ;  and  he  had  no  claim  upon 
God  for  it ;  nor  could  he  tell  how  it  would  terminate 
with  him.  It  was  a  solemn  moment.  He  was  looking 
forward  to  the  judgment,  and  onward  to  eternity.  Well 
might  he  bow  his  head  and  smite  his  breast. 

Humility  is  not  a  mistaken  sense  of  inferiority, 
which  results  from  a  false  standard.  Whatever  a  man 
thinks  true  excellence  consists  in,  he  will  think  humbly 
of  himself  for  not  possessing.  Hence  men  are  right  in 
condemning  a  morbid  humility.  That  consists  in  con-, 
demning  ourselves  for  not  conforming  to  a  false  stand- 
ard of  excellence  ;  and  thus  degrades  the  soul.  But 
true  humility  consists  in  recognizing  all  the  inferiority 
that  pertains  to  our  positions  as  creatures,  dependent 
and  limited ;  and  especially  our  guilty  and  miserable 
condition  as  sinners.  It  is  not  submission,  because  a 
proud  soul  may  submit  to  force  ;  nor  condescension, 


THE    niARISEE    AND    THE    rUBLICAN.  133 

because  that  is  not  confined  to  humility  ;  nor  is  it  being 
abased,  for  Satan  is  as  proud  in  hell  as  he  was  in  heaven. 
But  it  is  self-abasement  on  account  of  sin  and  its  con- 
sequences. "  Be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  !  "  A  sinner ! 
Ah  !  he  had  now  begun  to  learn  the  significance  of  that 
word.  His  eye  saw,  his  soul  felt  its  dreadful  meaning. 
To  be  humble,  is  to  be  willing  to  know  ourselves  and 
our  deserts.  Did  we  know  how  many  vain  thoughts 
lodge  within  us,  how  many  evil  inclinations,  how  many 
selfish  purposes,  how  our  words  sound  in  God's  ear, 
how  our  actions  appear  to  him,  we  should  find  humility 
to  be  the  only  rational  state  for  man. 

Thus  we  see  consequently  in  these  two  men,  mani- 
fested respectively, 

2.  Self-coniTnendation^  and  self-condemnation.  It 
was  an  ingenious,  but  a  wicked  way  of  self-flattery,  to 
put  it  into  the  form  of  thanksgiving.  But  we  meet  the 
same  thing  in  our  day.  "  Thank  God,"  says  the  tongue, 
"I  am  not  like  such  and  such  a  one."  "Tliank  God," 
says  the  heart ; "  "  thank  God,"  says  the  manner,  "  I 
am  not  like  you,  nor  you.  Come  thou  not  near  me  ;  I 
am  better  than  thou."  The  Pharisee  knows  nothing 
about  himself,  but  that  he  is  so  much  better  than  other 
men  ;  the  Publican  only  knows  that  he  is  a  sinner.  He 
remembers  his  ingratitude  for  so  much  mercy,  and  can- 
jiot  look  up.  He  compares  his  meanness  with  God's 
majesty,  his  sinfulness  with  the  Divine  holiness,  and 
exclaims  with  Ezra — "  O  my  God,  I  am  ashamed,  and 
blush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee,  my  God ;  for  my 
iniquities  are  increased  over  my  head,  and  my  trespass 
is  grown  unto  the  heaven."  True  humility  makes  us 
know  our  sins,  and  ingenuously  confess  them  ;  without 
which  there  can  be  no  acceptable  prayer,  no  recon- 


134  •  LECTURE    IX. 

ciliation  with  our  oflendod  God.  And  while  the  spirit 
of  each  of  these  men  is  so  different  from  that  of  the 
other,  we  observe  another  contrast.     It  is  in, 

II.  The  objects  they  sought  in  pkayer. 

Both  considered  themselves  as  going  to  the  temple 
on  a  legitimate  errand.  But  the  objects  they  seek  are 
so  diametrically  contrary  to  each  other,  that  they  cannot 
both  be  right.  And  it  is  well  for  us  that  an  infallible 
judge  has  pronounced  between  them. 

The  two  respective  objects  of  their  search  were, 
self-flattery  and  divine  mercy. 

1.  The  Pharisee  went  to  the  temjple  to  flatter  himself. 
He  did  not  go  to  seek  God ;  he  not  having,  in  fact, 
any  special  occasion  for  him.  He  did  not  go  to  please 
God.  There  seems  nowhere  a  desire  to  present  that 
sacrifice  of  a  broken  heart  which  God  delights  in. 
There  is  no  confession  of  sin,  which  is  so  constantly 
enjoined  upon  us.  There  is  no  expression  of  love  and 
confidence  ;  no  genuine  gratitude  nor  praise. 

He  has  not  come  to  ask  any  favor.  Prayer  is  sup- 
plication ;  but  he  makes  no  request.  It  is  the  ex- 
pression of  want ;  and  to  pray  aright,  we  must  regard 
our  necessities  rather  than  our  attainments  ;  and  to  be 
prepared  for  prayer,  the  mind  must  dwell  more  upon 
our  wants  than  our  possessions  or  attainments.  Bourda- 
loue  has  finely  said,  that  our  good  actions  benefit  us  ; 
but  the  recollection  of  them  corrupts  us,  by  inflating 
our  pride.  Our  bad  actions  injure  us  ;  but  the  recol- 
lection of  them  may  benefit  us  by  humbling  us  tc 
prayer. 

He  has  not  come  to  pray  for  God's  kingdom,  for  his 
nation,  his  fellow-citizens,  his  fellow-men,  or  himself. 


THE   PHARISEE    AND    THE    PUBLICAN.  135 

Kotliing  of  all  this  is  in  liis  prayer.  It  is  simply  to 
boast,  under  the  gnise  of  praying  and  thanking  God. 
No  doubt  the  temple  was  to  him  a  delightful  place, 
and  the  hour  of  prayer  a  delightful  season  ;  because 
they  were  associated  with  such  a  sweet  indulgence  of 
pride.  There  he  was  accustomed  to  receive  the  greet- 
ings of  men.  Even  the  priests  bowed  to  him  with 
more  than  usual  respect.  And  more  important  still, 
he  there  had  a  season  of  leisurely  self-recollection  to 
refresh  his  memory  with  the  catalogue  of  his  virtues ; 
and  mistaking  even  his  own  approbation  for  Grod's,  he 
went  down  to  his  house,  as  he  supposed,  approved  of 
by  the  Searcher  of  hearts.  He  gets  what  he  seeks  ; 
but  it  is  not  mercy,  nor  God's  ajjproval. — The  other 
came  to  obtain, 

2.  Mercij.  He  sought  God.  He  was  burdened 
with  sin  ;  and  man  can  neither  pardon  nor  renew  the 
sinner.  He  tliought  of  himself,  not  as  compared  with 
others,  but  as  he  was  before  God.  Others'  sins  do  not 
excuse  his.  His  are  his  own  grief  and  shame  and  bur- 
den. My  name  is  sinner^  by  nature  and  by  practice  ; 
in  thought,  word,  and  deed  ;  from  my  youth  upward  I 
was  light,  vain,  self-willed,  living  for  myself.  I  have 
grown  up  worldly,  ambitious,  proud.  I  have  broken 
God's  holy  law  in  numberless  ways.  I  am  a  sinner  in 
spite  of  all  that  God  has  done  for  me. 

Mercy  !  mercy !  I  need  mercy.  This  will  give 
him  peace  and  access  to  God ;  raise  his  heart  above 
the  world  ;  make  him  like  Christ,  and  useful ;  prepare 
him  for  heaven,  and  take  him  there. 

Mercy  is  not  mere  goodness.  It  is  the  opposite  of 
justice  ;  goodness  toward  the  guilty,  as  that  is  severity 
toward  the  guilty.     It  is  the  setting  aside  of  punish- 


136  LECTURE   IX. 

ment  that  is  deserved.  It  is  spontaneous  goodness,  not 
goodness  by  necessity,  not  goodness  as  a  matter  of 
course.  It  has  reference  to  want,  and  not  to  merit.  It 
fills  the  heart  of  God.  It  has  as  wide  a  scope  as  our 
ill-desert,  depravity,  actual  and  pros^^ective  misery. 
The  first  thing  for  us  sinful  creatures  to  seek  is — its  for- 
giveness, its  aid. 

But  to  seek  to  flatter  ourselves,  to  entertain  God 
with  a  recital  of  our  excellent  qualities  and  deeds,  to 
fortify  our  good  opinion  of  ourselves,  is  contrary  to  all 
the  instructions  of  Christ,  is  abhorrent  to  the  Most 
High  God.  Only  the  humble  can  pray  ;  for  Jehovah 
declares,  that  the  proud  he  knoweth  aiar  off;  but  to 
that  man  he  will  look,  who  is  of  an  humble  and  contrite 
heart. 

We  find,  then,  a  twofold  cause  for  the  different 
results  of  these  prayers.  The  one  is,  that  both  gained 
their  objects  respectively.  The  one  sought  to  flatter 
himself ;  and  verily  he  had  his  reward  ;  he  succeeded 
in  his  object.  The  other  sought  for  mercy  ;  he  looked 
to  God,  entreating  him  to  exercise  that  attribute  which 
has  as  wide  a  scope  as  our  ill-desert,  our  depravity,  our 
present  and  our  prospective  misery.  Tliis  is  the  first 
object  which  sinful  man  ought  to  seek — the  forgiveness 
and  the  aid  of  divine  mercy. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  seek  a  right  object  in  prayer  ; 
for,  there  may  be  even  Pharisees  who  feel  their  need 
of  mercy.  Their  pride  comes  in  under  another  form. 
They  seek  forgiveness  and  sanctification,  grace  and 
heaven  indeed,  but  not  on  God's  conditions.  Those 
conditions  are  :  repentance  toward  God,  and  faith  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Tlie  advent  of  the  Son  of  God  into  this  world  is 


THE    PIIAKISJOE    AND   THE    PUBLICAN.  137 

founded  upon  tlie  fact  that  the  human  race  as  one,  has 
departed  from  God  and  broken  his  law.  There  are  no 
exceptions.  Nothing  but  pride  makes  any  one  regard 
himself  as  an  exception  ;  nothing  but  unbelief  rejects 
the  provision  made  for  sinners.     Faith  accepts  it. 

The  fault  of  the  Pharisee  was  not  immorality,  nor  the 
neglect  of  religious  worship  :  but  relying  on  his  nega- 
tive morality  for  justification,  and  substituting  an  ex- 
\  ternal  religious  service  for  the  religion  of  the  heart. 
Fasting  and  tithes,  which  were  designed  to  awaken  a 
sense  of  inward  poverty  and  need,  and  to  bring  men 
to  feel  themselves  to  be  stewards  of  God's  possessions, 
the  Pharisees  employed  as  substitutes  for  heart-piety, 
and  occasions  of  self-exaltation.  This  man's  prayer 
had  two  parts  ;  both  of  which  neutralized  the  law  and 
the  Gospel.  The  negative  part,  which  stated  what  he 
did  not  do,  was  designed  to  make  the  law  consist  only 
in  negatives,  and  a  very  few  of  them.  It  was  designed, 
too,  to  show  that  he  was  not  a  sinner,  and  therefore 
needed  not  the  Gospel.  The  positive  part  which  de- 
scribed his  religious  services,  represented  a  poor  paltry 
tithing  of  income  and  abstinence  from  food  as  satis- 
fying the  demands  of  the  law,  and  as  comprehending 
the  whole  meaning  and  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  The 
parable  was  addressed  to  those  w^ho  trusted  in  them- 
selves. "  Cursed  is  he  who  trusteth  in  man."  But 
trusting  in  one's-self  is  the  Pharisaism  of  the  human 
heart.  Trusting  in  Christ  is  the  vital  element  of  prayer. 
Faith  is  the  very  breathing  of  a  soul  that  realizes  itself 
cut  off  on  every  side  from  human  help,  and  has  no 
resources  in  itself.  How  dreadful  then  is  self-flattery  ! 
It  was  the  sin  of  this  man  ;  and  it  is  the  sin  that  sticks 
most  closely  to  every  man.     It  made  his  morality  a 


138  LECTURE    IX. 

sin,  and  his  religion  a  mockery.  To  tliink  little  of  our 
sins,  and  mucli  of  our  virtues,  is  tlie  usual  habit.  To 
get  as  high  as  we  can,  in  our  own  eyes,  rather  than  to 
see  ourselves  as  God  sees  us,  is  our  eifort.  When  men 
speak  well  of  us,  we  welcome  it,  remember  it,  recur  to 
it  as  a  beautiful  person  returns  to  her  mirror.  When 
men  speak  against  us  we  are  made  angry,  we  stop  not 
to  examine  how  much  reason  they  may  have  for  so  un- 
favorable an  opinion  of  us.  When  the  word  and  spirit 
of  the  Lord  show  us  our  sins,  we  find  the  subject  so 
disagreeable  that  we  turn  away  from  it.  But  here  our 
Saviour  has  furnished  us  a  solemn  warning,  by  showing 
the  hideous  features  of  pride  in  prayer  ;  of  pride  strut- 
ting before  the  Majesty  of  Heaven,  and  spreading  its 
gaudy  beauty  before  that  eye  which  sees  defects  in  the 
heavens  and  folly  in  the  angels  !  Here  we  see  it  losing 
its  labor,  and  leading  its  victim  blindfold  and  secure, 
from  the  very  temple  of  salvation  down  to  destruction. 

Fear,  fellow-sinners,  fear  the  fatal  spell.  It  is  on 
you ;  and  makes  you  deaf  to  the  voice  of  Ti-uth,  and 
closes  the  ear  of  mercy  to  your  prayer  ! 

Here  is  a  danger  to  which  our  friendshijos  may  ex- 
jpose  us.  Our  friends  are  those,  ordinarily,  who  are 
satisfied  with  us  as  we  are :  then  they  never  will 
humble  us.  Every  look,  every  word,  every  action 
continues  the  flattery.  So  much  morality  and  so  much 
religion  as  we  have,  they  have  practically  pronounced 
sufficient  to  recommend  us  to  them.  Then  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  realize  that  God's  judgment  is  totally  different 
from  theirs ;  and  yet,  until  we  do,  we  shall  content 
ourselves  with  pleasing  them,  and  slumber  into  the 
second  death. 

Here  is  the  danger  of  jprosjperity.     Ease,  success, 


THE   PHAKISEE   AND   THE    PUBLICAN.  139 

enjoyment,  the  good  opinion  of  others  ;  what  an  atmos- 
phere to  siirround  our  poor  dehided  souls  !  "Who  can 
break  through  the  enchanted  circle  and  sit  down  alone 
to  survey  candidly,  and  as  before  the  Searcher  of 
hearts,  his  own  deep  defects,  and  recall  his  many  and 
aggravated  sins  !  Dangerous  ease ;  dangerous  suc- 
cess !  A  great  blessing ;  but  how  easily  abused,  how 
easily  tm-ncd  into  a  curse  !  Be  not  dismayed  if  God 
breaks  up  that  ease  and  enjoyment ;  if  your  j)leasant 
gourd  withers  :  it  may  be  well  for  you. 

Here  is  the  danger  of  any  form  of  false  religion, 
One  class  of  false  religious  systems  degrades  the  soul 
Every  pagan  system  gives  low  conceptions  of  the  Deity 
of  our  duties  to  him,  and  of  true  human  excellence 
The  Papal  religion  is  thoroughly  debasing  in  its  ten 
dency.  It  crushes  individuality  and  reason  ;  it  en 
slaves  the  w^ill  to  an  earthly  authority ;  it  satisfies  the 
conscience  with  puerile  rites,  and  a  low  standard  of 
personal  excellence. 

All  others  flatter  human  nature.  They  make  their 
followers  Pharisees.  None  but  the  Gospel  truly  hum- 
bles the  human  heart.  They  are  the  offspring  of  man's 
proud  heart ;  this  came  from  God.  On  this  point  the 
human  heart  has  taken  its  stand,  and  here  the  battle  is 
to  be  fought. 

Are  you  degraded  by  sin  from  your  original  lofty 
position  ;  or  can  you  claim  to  stand  with  the  sons  of 
God  ?     That  is  the  first  great  question. 

If  you  are  conscious  of  being  degraded  and  ruined 
by  sin,  then  will  you  take  the  place,  in  your  own  esti- 
mation, which  you  have  in  God's  ?  You  say  your  sins 
are  very  few  and  small.  That  is  the  crime  of  Pharisa- 
ism added  to  all  the  rest.    Adam's  sin  was  but  one,  and, 


140  LECTURE   IX. 

in  liuman  eyes,  small.  K  you  analyze  it,  it  was  either 
a  mere  amiable  yielding  to  liis  conjugal  affections,  or 
ambition,  or  curiosity,  or  a  love  of  what  tastes  agi*ee- 
ably.  Will  you  then  weigh  sin  in  your  balances,  or  in 
those  of  heaven  and  its  eternal  Judge  ! 

One  other  appeal.  Will  you  sue  for  mercy  ;  God's 
mercy  ;  mercy  through  an  atoning  Saviour  ;  mercy  on 
you,  a  miserable,  perishing  sinner  ! 

Beware  of  a  flattery  that  will  ruin  your  soul,  come 
from  whence  it  may ;  for  even  the  Devil  can  appear  as 
an  angel  of  light  when  it  suits  his  malignant  jiurpose. 
Jesus  says,  learn  of  me  ;  what  ?  to  be  great ;  to  work 
miracles  ?  No  ;  to  be  meek  and  lowly.  False  religions 
say, — ^learn  of  me  how  good  you  are,  how  slight  a 
change  is  needed  for  your  salvation.  Beware  of  a 
mistake  as  to  the  mode  and  ground  of  justification. 
Pharisaism  is  the  natural  mode,  the  agreeable  mode  ; 
but  it  is  not  God's  way.  "  By  the  deeds  of  the  law 
shall  no  flesh  be  justified."  Where  are  you  seeking 
justification  ;  through  your  merits,  or  through  Christ's  ? 
Are  you  asking  for  justice  or  mercy  ?  Are  you  re- 
counting to  God  your  virtues,  or  your  sins  ? 

Keturn  once  more  to  this  scene.  It  was  described 
for  the  sake  of  them  that  trusted  in  themselves  that 
they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others.  Pride  trusts 
in  itself,  that  it  is  so  righteous  ;  that  it  does  not  deserve 
God's  wrath,  nor  need  his  forgiving  mercy.  And  it 
despises  them  who  do  need  it.  Is  that  Pharisee  here 
to-day  ?  See  him  in  prayer  ;  see  him  going  down  to 
his  house,  justified  in  his  own  eyes,  but  condemned  by 
the  Saviour  of  sinners,  the  Lord  of  glory. 

Are  you  a  sinner  needing  mercy  ?  Take  your  own 
place ;  plead  the  sinner's  plea ;  and  you  will  then  be 


THE    rilAEISEE   AND   THE   PUBLICAN.  141 

justified  immediately  ;  and  will  go  down  to  yom*  house 
justified,  to  death  and  eternity,  justified.  Remember, 
that  without  humility  you  cannot  enter  heaven.  Hu- 
mility is  lovely ;  God  loves  it.  He  dwells  in  the  high 
and  lofty  j^lace,  yet  will  he  come  and  make  his  abode 
in  the  humble  heart.  It  dignifies  any  station  ;  it  will 
shine  in  heaven,  without  knowing  that  it  shines.  Pride 
is  the  curse  of  our  miserable  race.  It  is  an  adamantine 
chain  that  will  bind  to  misery  and  despair. 


LECTUKE  X. 


THE  IMPORTUNATE  FRIEND  AND  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW  ;  OR, 
IMPORTUNITY  IN  PRAYER  PREVALENT. 

Luke  xi.  5-13  ;  and  xviii.  1-8.  "  And  he  said  unto  them,  Which  of 
you  shall  have  a  friend,  and  shall  go  unto  him  at  midnight,  and  say  unto 
him,  Friend,  lend  me  three  loaves ;  For  a  friend  of  mine  in  his  journey  is 
come  to  me,  and  I  have  nothing  to  set  hefore  him  :  And  he  from  within 
shall  answer  and  say,  Trouble  me  not :  the  door  is  now  shut,  and  my  chil- 
dren are  with  me  in  bed  ;  I  cannot  rise  and  give  thee  ?  I  say  unto  you, 
Though  he  will  not  rise  and  give  him,  because  he  is  his  friend,  yet  because 
of  his  importunity  he  will  rise  and  give  him  as  many  as  he  needeth.  And 
I  say  unto  you,  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  : 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  For  every  one  that  asketh  re- 
ceiveth  ;  and  he  that  seeketh  findetla ;  and  to  liim  that  knocketh  it  shall 
be  opened.  If  a  sou  shall  asli  bread  of  any  of  you  that  is  a  father,  will 
he  give  him  a  stone  ?  or  if  he  ash  a  fish,  will  he  for  a  fish  give  him  a  ser- 
pent ?  Or  if  he  shall  ask  an  egg,  will  he  offer  him  a  scorpion  ?  If  ye  then, 
being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children  ;  how  much 
more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  ?  ' 

"  And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them  to  this  end,  that  men  ought  always  to 
pray,  and  not  to  faint ;  Saying,  There  was  in  a  city  a  judge,  which  feared 
not  God,  neither  regarded  man  :  And  there  was  a  widow  in  that  city  ;  and 
she  came  unto  him,  saying.  Avenge  me  of  mine  adversary.  And  he  would 
not  for  a  while  :  but  afterward  he  said  within  himself.  Though  I  fear  not 
God,  nor  regard  man  ;  Yet  because  this  widow  troubleth  me,  I  will  avenge 
ner,  lest  by  her  continual  coming  she  weary  me.  And  the  Lord  said. 
Hear  wLat  the  unjust  judge  saith,  And  shaU  not  God  avenge  his  own  elect, 


'  THE    IMPOKTUNATE    FRIEND    AND    WIDOW.  143 

which  cry  day  and  night  unto  him,  though  he  bear  long  with  them  ?  I 
tell  you  that  he  will  avenge  them  speedily.  Nevertheless,  when  the  Son 
of  man  co-neth,  shall  he  find  faith  on  the  earth  ?  " 

OuK  Saviour  having  furnislied  his  disciples  an  ab- 
stract and  outline  of  prayer,  proceeds  to  give  them 
some  instruction  about  its  spirit.  These  two  parables 
before  us  agree  in  design,  although  delivered  under 
different  circumstances.  That  of  the  unjust  judge 
refers  to  the  tremendous  trials  and  afflictions  through 
which  the  Church  is  called  to  pass,  even  up  to  the 
time  of  Christ's  final  coming.  In  both  there  is  an  ar- 
gument founded  on  the  complete  and  infinite  contrast 
between  God  and  these  two  men. 

He  leads  us  to  contemplate  human  nature  as  it  is 
too  often  exhibited,  either  in  its  selfish  indifference  or 
its  more  positive  injustice  ;  reluctantly  yielding  to  an 
untiring  urgency,  simi^ly  because  not  yielding  would 
be  more  uncomfortable  than  yielding.  With  this  he 
holds  in  clear  contrast  the  conduct  of  our  heavenly 
Father  when  he  delays  to  answer  our  prayers.  The 
state  of  mind  he  designs  to  meet  by  these  parables  is 
that  of  discom-agement.  And  he  furnishes  to  his  peo- 
ple, during  that  painful  season  of  delay  in  the  answer 
to  prayer,  the  strong  ground  of  encouragement  to  ex- 
pect an  answer  in  the  best  way,  and  at  the  best  time. 

Tliere  are,  in  fact,  three  cases  set  before  us  ;  that  in 
their  light  we  may  see  the  strong  ground  of  our  con- 
fidence in  prayer  ;  that  of  an  unjust  judge  ;  a  friend  of 
ordinary  goodness  ;  and  a  father  as  good  as  the  best. 

Tliese  parables  then  show  us  that  earnestness  and 
perseverance  in  prayer  characterize  those  who  believe 
the  Gospel ;  and  especially  they  vindicate  that  perse- 


144  LECTUKE    X. 

verance,  bj  showing  why  we  may  expect  that  God  wiU 
yield  to  argument  and  jpersxictsion. 

The  first  consideration  presented  is — 

I.  Because  He  is  a  beevg  possessed  of  an  risrriisriTELT 
PERFECT  EEASON  ;  Or,  in  other  words,  is  infinitely  rea- 
sonable. 

"We  are  not  now  to  discuss  the  reason  of  his  delays 
in  answering  prayer ;  but  simply  to  show  why  we 
believe  that  reasoning  and  persuasion  have  any  effect 
on  him,  inducing  him  to  answer  prayer.  In  the  cases 
of  the  friend  and  the  judge  there  are  both  delay  and 
repulse  ;  but,  finally,  an  answer.  Kow  they  yield  to 
importunity  simply  as  an  importunity.  It  was  not 
benevolence,  not  a  i-ight  estimate  of  his  friend's  neces- 
sities that  induced  the  man  to  rise  and  supply  his  wants. 
It  seems  to  have  been  mere  shame.  There  was  a  reason 
why  he  should  arise  and  give  his  friend  the  bread.  But 
that  reason  did  not  affect  him  ;  it  was  merely  the  im- 
portunity that  moved  him.  So  too  the  judge  ought  to 
have  been  influenced  by  the  reasons  which  the  injured 
plaintiff  brought  before  him.  But,  by  his  own  avowal, 
he  was  not.  He  yielded,  too,  simply  to  selfishness  ; 
wishing  to  avoid  an  importunity  which  was  annoying 
to  him,  and  which  he  saw  he  could  avoid  in  no  other 
way. 

Now  the  character  of  God  stands  in  infinite  con- 
trast with  that ;  and  to  appreciate  it,  we  must  see  what 
prayer  is ;  who  the  suppliant  is  ;  on  what  ground  he 
appears  there,  and  what  is  his  suit ;  or,  in  other  words, 
notice  the  reasonableness  of  our  petitions,  and  the  pe- 
culiar mediation  through  which  our  prayer  is  offered. 

1.  Prayer  is  the  p7'esentation  of  wants  which  God 


THE   niPOKTUNATE   FKIEND   AND    WIDOW.  1-1 5 

acknowledges  to  l)e  real  and  i'rii])ortant.  Concerning 
evou  wliat  may  be  considered  as  the  very  lowest  of 
onj-  necessities,  the  Saviour  says :  "  Your  heavenly 
Fatlier  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  them."  And 
ho  has  taught  us  to  insert  in  our  daily  j)rayer  the  men- 
tion of  our  daily  bread.  When  therefore  we  j)resent 
our  bodily  wants  before  him,  we  present  the  fact  that 
we  need  for  the  preservation  of  our  lives,  and  the  con- 
tinuation of  our  faculties  in  such  a  condition  as  to  make 
them  answer  their  ends,  various  things  which  are  to- 
tally beyond  our  power  to  create  or  even  to  procure, 
without  God's  aid.  Tliis  necessity  and  this  dependence 
are  therefore  reasons  why  our  heavenly  Father  should 
be  moved  by  our  requests  for  temporal  blessings.  But 
you  may  be  disposed  to  inquire  here, — why  need  he 
wait  for  our  requests  at  all ;  and  especially,  why  wait 
f<:)r  us  to  become  importunate  ?  Tliough  uttered  in  one 
breath,  you  will  observe  there  are  here  two  distinct  in- 
quiries ;  and  a  closer  attention  may  show  that  they  are 
more  important  than  we  always  realize  them  to  be,  even 
when  projDosing  them.  We  may  not  now  pause  to  ex- 
amine them  fully  ;  but  we  may  have  occasion  presently 
to  show  some  of  the  designs  of  attaching  special  bless- 
ings to  importunity  in  prayer.  And  concerning  the 
wisdom  and  kindness  of  God  in  making  prayer  neces- 
sary for  the  procuring  many  blessings,  it  stands  pre- 
cisely on  a  footing  with  the  employment  of  human 
skill,  foresight,  and  industry  in  every  department  of 
life.  Suppose  men  to  be  as  averse  to  labor  as  they  are 
to  prayer ;  it  would  then  appear  to  them  just  as  wise 
to  say,  "  why  need  we  plough,  or  study,  or  traffic,  or 
work  in  any  way  with  head  or  hand," — as  it  is  to  say, 
why  need  we  pray  ?  Could  not  God  furnish  us  every 
7 


146  LECTURE   X. 

good  tiling  without  all  this  employment  of  onr  poor 
powers  ?  Yes  ;  if  you  speak  of  mere  omnipotence,  he 
conld.  But  if  you  mean  either  to  inquire  whether  he 
has  done  so,  or  whether  it  were  more  kind  and  wise  in 
him  to  do  so,  we  answer  promptly,  and  to  be  heard  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth  and  to  the  end  of  time — 'No.  Con- 
ceding then  the  fact  of  the  arrangement,  and  its  wis- 
dom, that  man  shall  secure  some  good  things  only  by 
prayer ;  and  that  nothing  gotten  without  prayer  shall 
prove  to  him  a  real  blessing,  we  return  to  the  inquiry, 
why  God  is  moved  by  argument  and  persuasion  ?  And 
our  answer  now  is — ^because  he  is  reasonable.  Our 
bodily  wants  are  reasons  to  affect  a  wise  and  kind 
Providence,  So  are  our  sj^iritual  necessities.  Tliey 
are  all  met  by  the  one  blessing  of  which  the  Lord 
speaks  in  the  13th  verse,  when  saying,  "  How  much 
more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  that  ask  him  !  "  Give  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  what 
an  expression.  Give  God ;  that  person  of  the  Deity 
whose  special  office  it  is  to  enlighten,  to  purify,  to  con- 
sole, to  strengthen,  to  transform  man's  spiritual  nature  ! 
It  was  he  who  made  Saul  of  Tarsus  become  Paul  the 
apostle.  It  was  he  who  breathed  on  the  dead  nations 
of  Asia  and  Europe,  and  brought  upon  them  a  new 
life,  out  of  which  has  come  all  that  is  good,  strong, 
lovely,  progressive  in  modern  Christianity  and  modern 
society.  It  was  he  who  wrought  mightily  in  the  vulgar^ 
profane,  ignorant  John  Bunyan,  to  mak<e  him  the  author 
of  Pilgrim's  Progress  ;  in  the  reckless,  cruel  slave-trader 
John  Kewton,  to  raise  him  up  from  the  half-savage  life 
of  an  Englishman  living  among  the  slave  factories  of 
Western  Africa,  to  make  of  him  one  of  England's 
Di'ightest  ornaments,  a  pillar  in  her  Church  on  earth, 


THE   IMPORTUNATE   FKIEND    AND   WIDOW.  147 

an  heir  of  God's  eternal  glory  in  heaven.  It  is  he,  of 
whom  it  is  said  that  his  products  in  the  human  heart 
are  "  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  good- 
ness, faith,  meekness,  temperance."  Now  when  a  man 
comes  before  God  to  ask  for  the  grace  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  thus  to  enlighten  and  transform  and  bless  him, 
there  is  an  infinite  reasonableness  in  his  petition,  and, 
of  course,  a  consideration  to  affect  the  mind  of  God  to 
grant  his  request.  The  same  may  be  said  concerning 
all  the  other  legitimate  objects  of  prayer ;  all  our  own 
wants,  bodily  and  spiritual ;  the  wants  of  our  families, 
friends,  neighbors,  enemies  ;  those  of  the  Church,  of 
the  nation,  of  the  human  race.  It  is  reasonable  in  us 
to  desire  these  blessings  ;  it  is  reasonable  in  us  to  resort 
to  our  Creator,  the  giver  of  all  good  ;  it  is  reasonable, 
when  for  reasons  which  satisfy  him,  he  delays  his  an- 
swer, that  we  spread  out  the  case  with  its  facts,  and  its 
most  moving  aspects,  because  we  are  dealing  with  a 
mind,  whose  nature  and  operations  we  can  understand 
only  through  our  own  ;  and  it  is  reasonable  in  him  to 
be  affected  by  these  considerations,  and  to  act  in  view 
of  them. 

But  prayer  is  more  than  this.  Christ  has  taught  us 
the  Christian  method  of  prayer.  "  "Without  me  ye  can 
do  nothing ;  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  I 
will  do  it."  By  these  and  similar  declarations,  and  the 
whole  doctrine  of  the  priesthood  of  Christ,  we  learn 
that, 

2.  Prayer  is  a  jplea  offered  in  the  nams  of  God^s 
dear  Son.  Prayer  must  he  offered  hj  a  heliever  in  the 
mediation  of  Christ;  and  must  be  an  expression  of 
faith  in  him.  The  meaning  of  this  is,  that  God  having 
revealed  to  man  his  guilty  and  helpless  condition  by 


148  LECTURE    X. 

nature,  and  the  wondrous  provision  made  for  his  salva 
tion  through  Christ,  he  that  comes  to  God  must  come 
intelligently  apprehending  and  cordially  approving  this 
arrangement.  In  other  words,  he  must  pray  in  the 
name  of  Christ,  as  one  believing  in  him  with  all  the 
heart.  ISTow,  when  one  comes  thus  before  God  to  ask 
for  things  which  God  knows  to  be  very  important,  this 
is  a  reason  why  he  should  favorably  regai^  the  suppli- 
ant, and  grant  him  his  request ;  though,  for  other 
equally  good  reasons,  he  bear  long  with  him,  or  keep 
him  in  the  posture  of  waiting.  Our  taking  that  atti- 
tude, and  meeting  him  on  the  platform  of  his  own  con 
struction  ;  meeting  him  in  the  way  that  honors  all  his 
attributes,  that  confirms  the  stability  of  his  govern- 
ment, that  makes  it  glorious  for  him  to  receive  and 
bless  sinful  man  ;  that  is  a  reason  why  he  should  accept 
our  petitions,  and  grant  our  requests.  And  there  is 
another  equally  solid : 

II.  He  is  a  Being  possessed  of  an  infinite  and  in- 
finitely PEKFEOT  SYMPATHY. 

This  is  one  of  the  difficult  points  of  theology.  The 
plain  reader  of  the  Bible  gets  along  without  expe- 
riencing the  difficulty.  He  reads  an  expression  like 
this,  uttered  by  an  infinite  Being,  when  expressing  to 
the  Jews  the  efi'ects  of  their  conduct  on  his  feelings : 
"  Behold,  I  am  pressed  under  you,  as  a  cart  is  pressed, 
that  is  full  of  sheaves ; "  and  he  simply  gets  the  idea 
that  God  felt  as  an  earthly  father  would  feel  at  such 
ungrateful  treatment  from  his  children.  Thus  far  it  is 
well ;  and  he  has  learned  exactly  what  God  designed 
to  teach.  But  now  he  becomes  a  student  of  the  whole 
Bible,  and  endeavors  to  reduce  its  teachings  to  har« 


THE   IMTORTUNATE   FRIEND    AND    WIDOW.  14S 

mony  and  unity.  Then  occurs  a  difficulty.  God  is 
unchangeable  ;  how  is  that  to  be  reconciled  with  feel- 
ings ever  fluctuating  from  grief  to  joy,  and  delight  to 
sadness  ?  God  is  perfectly  happy  ;  how  reconcile  that 
with  the  pains  of  sympathy,  anger,  hatred,  and  regret  ? 
Here  is  a  real  difficulty  ;  and  there  are  several  ways  of 
disj)0sing  of  it.  One  is,  to  clothe  the  Eternal  with  the 
weaknesses  of  man.  Another  is,  to  evaporate  these 
expressions  of  sorrow  and  sympathy  into  empty  sounds. 
The  right  position  I  judge  to  be  this  :  hold  firmly  to 
the  majesty,  unchangeableness  and  blessedness  of  the 
Most  High  God.  Then  separating  from  human  affec- 
tions every  thing  that  is  imperfect  and  limited,  every 
thing  that  is  sinful  or  a  judicial  consequence  of  sin, 
and  ascribe  it  without  hesitation,  without  reserve  to 
Him,  wherever  the  Scriptures  speak  of  his  exercising 
love,  hatred,  repentance,  wrath,  grief,  or  self-denial. 

In  this  view  then  we  may  regard  the  man  Christ 
Jesus  as  revealing  the  Godhead  ;  and  the  divine  nature 
of  Christ  as  having  the  title  of  the  Word.  We  see 
God  in  the  babe,  the  boy,  the  man,  the  son,  the  friend, 
the  preacher,  the  healer,  the  weeper,  the  suppliant,  the 
victim. 

And  now  when  you  approach  Him  on  his  throne  of 
grace,  you  may  understand  that  "as  a  father  pities 
his  children,  so  the  Lord  pities  them  that  fear  him." 
That  is, 

1.  He  is  tenderly  affected  hy  our  distresses.  "  Hjs 
soul  was  grieved  for  the  misery  of  Israel.  The  Lord  is 
very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy."  Our  miseries  then 
are  in  themselves  arguments,  most  eloquent  pleaders 
And  whatever  may  be  th-  reason  for  a  delay  in  an- 
swering our  prayers,  they  are  a  sufficient  reason  for  his 


150  LECTUKE    X. 

answering,  wlicn  the  reason  for  delay  exists  no  longer 
And  there  is  nothing  in  the  greatness  of  his  Being  or 
attributes  which  makes  it  unreasonable  that  he  should 
be  so  affected, 

Now  let  us  observe  an  instance  of  prayer  under 
affliction  ;  earnest,  logical,  bold  and  eloquent,  because 
sincere  and  simple.  Israel  had  so  grievously  provoked 
the  indignation  of  Jehovah,  that  he  threatened  to  ex- 
terminate them.  When  Moses  heard  it,  he  came  before 
the  mercy-seat ;  and  this  was  his  plea :  "  And  Moses 
said  unto  the  Lord,  Tlien  the  Egyptians  shall  hear  it^ 
for  thou  broughtest  up  this  people  in  thy  might  from 
among  them ;  and  they  will  tell  it  to  the  inliabitants 
of  this  land  :  for  they  have  heard  that  thou  Lord  art 
among  this  people,  that  thou  Lord  art  seen  face  to  face, 
and  that  thy  cloud  standeth  over  them,  and  thai  thou 
goest  before  them,  by  daytime  in  a  pillar  of  a  cloud, 
and  in  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night.  Now  if  thou  shalt 
kill  all  this  people  as  one  man,  then  the  nations  w^hich 
have  heard  the  fame  of  thee  will  speak,  saying,  Because 
the  Lord  was  not  able  to  bring  this  people  into  the  land 
which  he  sware  unto  them,  therefore  he  hath  slain  them 
in  the  wilderness.  And  now,  I  beseech  thee,  let  the 
power  of  my  Lord  be  great,  according  as  thou  hast 
spoken,  saying,  The  Lord  is  long-suffering,  and  of  great 
mercy,  forgiving  iniquity  and  transgression,  and  by  no 
means  clearing  the  guilty,  visiting  the  iniquity  of  the 
fathers  upon  the  childi-en  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation.  Pardon,  I  beseech  tlieej  the  iniquity  of 
this  people  according  unto  the  greatness  of  thy  mercy, 
and  as  thou  hast  forgiven  this  people,  from  Egyj^t  even 
until  now."  And  the  Lord  said,  "  I  have  pardoned, 
according  to  thy  word."     Here  is  a  specimen  of  prayer ; 


THE    IMI'OKTUInATE    IKIK^'D    AXD    AVLDOW.  15] 

an  appeal  to  the  reason  and  the  sympathy  of  Jehovah 
And  it  Avas  successful,  because  he  is  reasonable  and 
compassionate.  His  own  glory  is  a  sufficient  reason 
for  his  acting ;  and  the  sorrows  of  his  people,  and  es- 
pecially their  nobler  sorrows,  like  that  here  expressed, 
reach  his  heart. 

And  not  only  our  sorrows  in  themselves  affect  him, 
but  more  particularly 

2.  Our  idterance  of  thein.  So  our  sympathies  are 
affected.  Distress  in  itself  moves  our  compassion ; 
but  our  interest  is  greatly  increased  when  the  sufferer 
turns  his  eye  to  us,  and  addresses  his  complaints  and 
petitions  to  one  of  us  alone.  And  it  is  worthy  of  our 
God,  that  praying  sorrow  should  affect  him  more  than 
sorrow  venting  itself  in  idle  exclamations  or  rebellious 
murmurings ;  and  still  more  that  he  should  be  most 
moved  by  the  sorrow  that  lies  patient,  but  pleading  at 
his  footstool,  determined  to  go  nowhere  else  for  relief. 
Thus  Jesus  revealed  the  divine  compassion  when  the 
woman  of  Syrophenicia  importuned  him. 

We  find  a  climax  in  the  three  cases  now  before  us. 
There  is  an  unrighteous,  hard-hearted  magistrate,  who 
avows  to  himself  that  he  neither  fears  God,  nor  regards 
man.  He  yields  neither  to  the  reasonableness  of  the 
woman's  demand,  though  placed  in  his  station  to  ad- 
minister justice,  nor  to  the  urgent  sorrows  of  an  injured 
widow.  But  at  length  mere  importunity  overcomes 
him.  And  did  Ke  answer  prayer ;  and  shall  not  God 
the  righteous  and  compassionate  Father  yield  to  our 
importunate  cries  !  But  the  next  case  is  of  a  friend,  a 
man  who  had  some  regard  for  the  suppliant.  And  w^ill 
ho  at  length  yield  to  urgency  alone  ;  and  shall  not  God, 
oin-  friend,  who  delays,  not  from  selfishness  or  indil- 


152  LECTDKE   X. 

ference,  but  from  infinitely  higher  considerations,  siiall 
not  he,  when  those  considerations  cease  to  exist,  yield 
to  our  ui'gent  prayer  ?  The  next  is  a  father,  who  could 
not  mock  the  misery  of  his  children,  nor  refuse  them 
sustenance.  "What  then  shall  we  say  of  our  lieavenly 
Father ;  "  will  he  not  avenge  "  or  do  justice  for  his  own 
elect,  who  cry  day  and  night  unto  him,  will  he  not 
much  more  give  his  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  ! 
Yes,  heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away,  but  his  loving 
kindness  cannot  fail. 

There  is  yet  another  reason  why  God  is  moved  by 
our  importunity. 

in.  He  is  faithful  to  nis  word. 

This  consideration  includes  the  others.  He  promises 
to  hear  and  answer  prayer,  because  he  is  reasonable  and 
good.  He  was  free  in  making  these  promises  ;  but, 
having  made  them,  they  are  an  additional  reason  for 
his  answering  our  supplications.  And  hence  they  who 
have  learned  to  pray,  urge  this  as  a  valid  and  most 
weighty  plea,  "  remember  the  word  unto  thy  servant, 
upon  which  thou  hast  caused  me  to  hope." 

His  promises  are  such  as  these  :  "  Whatsoever  ye 
shall  ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  he  sliall  give  it ;  ask, 
and  ye  shall  receive,  seek  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you."  ISTow  in  these  and 
all  the  other  promises  concerning  prayer,  there  is  no 
limitation  of  the  time  or  manner  of  the  gift.  And  on 
no  point  do  we  make  more  serious  mistakes  than  on 
this  ;  fixing  dates  where  infinite  wisdom  has  put  none, 
and  prescribing  modes  where  sovereign  goodness  would 
be  left  free.  We  cannot  hold  the  Promiser  to  our  times 
and  ways, — only  to  the  substance  of  his  promise.     It 


THE    IMPOKTUNATE    FKIEND    AKD    WIDOW.  153 

often  happens  that  the  time  of  the  answer  does  no! 
coincide  with  tliat  of  the  petition.  But  a  time  of  an- 
swering must  come  ;  and  Jehovah  will  keep  Ms  word, 
let  what  will  fail.  And  the  promise  which  w^e  hold 
before  him  is  a  sufficient  reason  for  his  acting  when  the 
fulness  of  time  has  come. 

God  would  then  j^resent  himself  to  us,  as  a  hearer 
of  prayer,  in  comparison  and  contrast  with  man  as  the 
hearer  of  prayer.  He  is  reasonable,  ever  and  infinite- 
ly ;  but  man  is  sometimes  unmoved  by  the  strongest 
reasons  ;  never  exactly  affected  as  he  should  be  by 
facts  and  principles.  A  judge  may  be  unjust,  and 
suffer  might  to  triumph  over  right ;  but  God  w^ill 
avenge  his  own  elect,  though  he  bear  long  wdth  their 
sorrow  and  their  importunity.  A  friend  may  be  nar- 
row-hearted and  reluctant  to  put  himself  to  incon- 
venience ;  but  God  is  full  of  kindness  and  sympathy. 
And  the  kindest  father  is  imperfect ;  and  if  he  cannot 
give  his  son  a  stone  for  bread,  how  much  more  impos- 
sible is  it  that  God  our  heavenly  Father  should  with- 
hold from  us  any  thing  that  we  ask,  which  he  knows  is 
for  oui*  good  and  our  ultimate  happiness  !  There  may 
be  in  him  a  seeming  unwillingness  to  answer  us,  as  in 
the  case  of  Jacob  and  the  Syrophenician  w^oman.  In 
the  judge  and  the  friend  it  was  real  reluctance  ;  in  him 
it  is  but  seeming. 

We  should  then  fully  reconcile  our  minds  to  delays 
in  receiving  answers  to  prayer.  What  is  God  doing 
while  we  are  pleading,  with  tears  and  strong  suppli- 
cation ;  is  he  forgetting  us  ?  l^o.  Is  he  indifferent  to 
our  sorrows  ?  No.  Has  he  failed  to  remember  his 
promise  ?   No.     He  is  all  the  while  regarding  us  with 


154  LECTURE    X. 

complacency  ;  feeling-  tlie  force  of  eveiy  appeal ;  riglitl} 
appreciating  every  fact.  But  sometimes  he  is  aiming 
at  making  prayer  a  part  of  our  discipline.  His  provi- 
dence is  ever  training  us  by  difficulties.  To  fix  the  eye 
on  some  great  end,  and  set  the  soul  to  the  attainment 
of  it,  and  holding  it  there  through  every  embarrass- 
ment, that  makes  all  true  greatness.  Cotton  Mather 
remarks  :  "  it  is  best  that  you  should  be  content  with 
the  ordinary  satisfaction  of  praying,  and  so  waiting  for 
the  blessings  of  God  in  such  pious  resignations  to  his 
wall  and  annihilations  of  your  own,  as  an  uncertainty 
about  issues  would  most  properly  lead  you  to."  Some- 
times the  cause  of  delay  is  in  ourselves ;  and  the 
search  must  be  instituted  there,  mitil  the  embarrassing 
cause  is  removed. 

Always  these  delays  promote  our  more  intimate 
returns  to  God.  And  we  find  the  very  sorrow  that 
drove  us  to  him,  to  have  become  thus  the  som'ce  of 
our  highest  joy.  Communion  with  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther is  itself  the  purest  of  enjoyments,  and  the  richest 
of  blessings. 

These  delays  greatly  strengthen  our  confidence  in 
God.  Faith  grows  when  its  energies  are  called  into 
exercise.  Jacob  became  a  prince  by  this  kind  of  con- 
flict. It  is  a  great  benefit  too  to  be  forced  upon  a  more 
thorough  study  of  faith,  prayer,  promises,  the  covenant 
and  the  mediator.  How  precious,  at  such  times  when 
pressed  with  our  own  burdens  and  wearied  with  long 
delays,  the  examples  in  the  Scriptures  seem  !  Abra- 
ham's importunity,  when  pleading  for  Sodom ;  Moses 
for  Israel ;  David  for  himself ! 

The  holy  art  of  prayer  is  to  he  lear^txed.  And  no 
attainment  is  of  greater  impoi'tauce.    To  learn  to  reason 


THE   lilPOETUNATE    FKIEND    AND    AVIDOW.  155 

with  God,  and  to  i^ersiiade  him  !  what  can  be  more  im- 
portant ?  Perhaps  the  most  essential  rules  that  have 
been  given  are  these  : 

Depend  on  the  Holy  Spirit,  for  he  is  our  strength  in 
this  holj  exercise. 

Study  the  Scriptures  to  know  the  whole  mind  of 
God  on  this  subject. 

Study  Providence  ;  or,  see  events  in  the  light  of 
God's  presence. 

Cherish  the  desires  and  feelings  that  God  approves. 

Observe  the  answers  to  prayer. 

Practise  prayer  ;  earnest,  importunate  prayer. 

Get  on  the  right  ground  with  God,  so  that  you  may 
know  yourself  to  be  one  of  his  "  elect,"  whom  "  he 
will  avenge," 

Become  earnest  in  prayer.  If  you  are  indifferent  or 
lukewarm,  awake  and  contemplate  yom-  situation,  your 
wants.  "  Ash.''''  There  are  your  wants,  there  is  your 
helper,  and  there  the  mercy-seat.  Be  in  earnest  there, 
rather  than  in  any  oLhcr  place  or  employment.  "  Cry  " — 
moan — you  shall  obtain. 

">&6^."  Diligence  is  here  enjoined,  such  as  makes 
men  seek  for  office,  money,  health,  or  education.  Let 
nothing  hinder  your  praying  ;  nothing  in  heaven,  earth 
or  hell.  Pray,  pray  at  all  times,  everywhere  ;  keep 
your  wants,  your  sorrows,  your  cares,  your  business, 
your  joys,  your  fears  before  God.  You  cannot  burden, 
weary  or  distract  him.  Nothing  is  too  minute  for  him 
who  numbers  the  hairs  of  your  head  ;  nothing  too  vast 
for  him  who  spread  the  heavens  as  a  curtain.  "  That 
soul,"  says  Donne,  "  that  is  accustomed  to  direct  her- 
self to  God  upon  every  occasion  ;  that,  as  a  flower  at 
sun-rising,  conceives  a  sense  of  God  in  every  beam  of 


156  LECTURE   X. 

his,  aud  spreads  and  dilates  itself  toward  hxra  in  thank 
fulness  for  every  small  blessing  that  he  sheds  upon  her^ 
.  .  .  that  soul  who,  whatsoever  string  be  stricken  in  her, 
bass  or  treble,  her  high  or  low  estate,  is  ever  turned 
towards  God,  that  soul  prays  sometimes  when  it  does 
not  know  that  it  prays."  But  then  it  must  be  too  a 
prayer  which  so  lays  hold  upon  your  heart  that  you 
will  know  you  pray,  and  know  that  you  never  did  any 
thing  so  earnestly. 

"  KnoclcP  There  may  be  a  long  painful  season  be- 
tween the  beginning  and  the  ceasing  of  your  prayer 
for  some  particular  blessing ;  but  that  may  be  the 
brightest  season  of  your  life  to  review  from  heaven, 
for  we  shall  there  see  that  our  trials  in  time,  bear  the 
sweetest  fruit  in  eternity.  The  answer  may  come 
slowly,  as  our  feelings  judge  it ;  but  he  calls  it  speedily. 
It  is  so  measured  by  God's  existence,  God's  plans,  and 
our  eternity. 

"  When  then  the  Son  of  Man  cometh,  shall  he  find 
faith  on  the  earth  ! "  Are  your  desires  reasonable,  be- 
nevolent, scriptm-al  ?     If  so,  then  pray  and  believe. 


LECTUEE  XL 

THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN  ;  OE,  KINDNESS. 

Luke  x  :  30-37. — "  And  Jesus  answering  said,  A  certain  man  went  town 
from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  "and  fell  among  thieves,  which  stripped  him  of 
his  raiment,  and  wounded  him,  and  departed,  leaving  him  half  dead.  And 
by  chance  there  came  down  a  certain  priest  that  way  ;  and  when  he  saw 
liim,  he  passed  by  on  the  other  side.  And  likewise  a  Levite,  when  he  was 
at  the  place,  came  and  looked  on  Mm,  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side. 
But  a  certain  Samaritan,  as  he  journeyed,  came  where  he  was  ;  and  when 
he  saw  him,  he  had  compassion  on  Mm,  and  went  to  Mm,  and  bound  up 
his  wounds,  poiiring  in  oil  and  wine,  and  set  him  on  his  own  beast,  and 
brought  him  to  an  inn,  and  took  care  of  him.  And  on  the  morrow  when 
he  departed,  he  took  out  two  pence,  and  gave  them  to  the  host,  and  said 
unto  him,  Take  care  of  him  :  and  whatsoever  thou  ipendest  more,  when 
I  come  again,  I  Tfill  repay  thee.  Which  now  of  these  three,  thinkest 
thou,  was  neighbour  unto  him  that  fell  among  the  thieves  ?  And  he  said. 
He  that  shewed  mercy  on  him.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  him.  Go,  and  do 
thou  likewise." 

This  man  appears  to  have  commenced  his  inquiry 
in  an  entirely  sincere  spirit.  But,  as  in  other  cases,  the 
Lord  did  not  leave  him  until  he  had  searched  his  heart, 
and  showed  him  where  he  failed  to  meet  the  law  of 
God.  He  had  gone  beyond  his  countrymen,  and  even 
the  most  of  their  religious  teachers,  in  discovering  the 
true  spirit  of  the  law  of  Moses  ;  that  it  inculcates,  not 
merely  formal  services,  but  love  to  God  ;  and  not  mere- 


158  LECTUKE    XI. 

ly  that,  "but  also  love  to  man.  When  the  Saviour  re 
plied  to  his  inquiry  what  he  must  do  to  inherit  eterna, 
life,  by  proposing  another ;  "  "What  is  written  in  the 
law  ;  how  readest  thou  ?  "  he  answered  ;  "  Thou  shalt 
love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart ;  and  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself."  Then  said  the  Saviour  ;  "  Thou 
hast  answered  right ;  this  do,  and  thou  shalt  live." 
From  the  remark  now  made  by  the  lawyer,  it  is  mani- 
fest that  the  direct  and  simple  reply  of  the  Saviour  had 
awakened  his  conscience.  He  saw  himself  condemned 
by  the  law  whose  authority  and  righteousness  he  ad- 
mitted. One  of  two  courses  then  remained  for  him  ;  re- 
pentance, or  self-vindication.  He  chose  the  latter. 
And  he  undertook  to  accomplish  it  by  presenting  an 
ambiguity  in  the  law;  "And  who  is  my  neighbor?" 
The  question  is  here  beautifully  answered.  A  Jew 
is  travelling  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  ;  a  journey,  at 
that  time,  full  of  peril.  The  road  is  through  a  rocky 
wilderness,  abounding  in  deep  defiles,  sharp  turnings 
in  the  road ;  and  indeed  every  facility  is  there,  to  aid 
the  work  of  robbery.  And  it  is  said  by  Josephus,  that 
Herod  having  recently  dismissed  40,000  workmen  from 
the  temple,  a  large  part  of  them  became  highway  rob- 
bers. This  traveller  fell  into  the  hands  of  such  men  ; 
who  stripped  him  of  money  and  garments,  wounded 
him,  and  abandoned  him  to  die.  His  thoughts  would 
of  course  be  as  great  a  source  of  anguish  as  his  wounds. 
His  property  gone,  his  business  interrupted ;  in  a  terri 
ble  wilderness  ;  his  family  held  in  painful  suspense  ; 
his  wounds  open  to  the  heat  of  day,  and  cold  of  night ; 
no  physician,  no  friend  at  hand  ;  what  could  he  expect 
but  death  ;  and  that,  in  the  most  painful  form  ?  But 
he  is  not  left  alone.     "There  comes  anotlier  traveller  ; 


THE    GOOD    SAMAKITAN.  16£ 

it  is  a  priest  of  God.  Ali,  here  is  relief ;  one  of  my 
own  country  and  religion,  lie  will  pity  me  and  be- 
friend me."  No,  lie  passes  "  by  on  the  other  side."  It 
is  said  that  12,000  priests  at  one  time  resided  in  Jeri- 
cho. He  came  "  by  chance."  He  had  probably  been 
fulfilling  his  course  at  the  temple,  and  was  now  return- 
ing home.  If  "  by  chance  "  means  only  to  represent 
our  view  of  the  case,  we  cannot  object  to  it.  But  it  is 
liable  to  perversion,  and  to  convey  the  impression  that 
God  is  not  weaving  the  great  web  of  human  events. 
It  was  He  that  put  this  needy  man  where  the  richer 
could  help  or  neglect  him,  as  they  should  prefer.  It  is 
not  chance  to  him,  that  they  meet  this  sufferer.  Then 
came  a  Levite  ;  a  man  of  the  same  tribe  ;  but  of  one 
of  the  inferior  branches  ;  yet  also  a  minister  of  religion. 
He  saw  the  poor  perishing  man,  but  passed  on,  as  if  it 
were  no  concern  of  his.  The  priests  and  Levites  were 
ministers  of  religious  worship,  and  interpreters  of  the 
law.  They  had  in  their  law  not  only  the  general  re- 
quirement to  love  their  neighbor;  but  also  this;  "Thou 
shalt  not  see  thy  brother's  ass  or  his  ox  fall  down  by 
the  way,  and  hide  thyself  from  them  ;  thou  shalt  surely 
help  him  to  lift  them  up  again."  If  they  must  raise  up 
his  fallen  beast,  out  of  pure  charity  ;  much  more,  hini- 
Relf.  ISTow,  as  the  narrative  had  advanced  thus  far,  the 
lawyer  had  perceived  only  a  confirmation  of  his  own 
views,  that  ceremonial  piety  is  not  all  that  the  law  re- 
quires ;  indeed,  is  not  any  thing,  without  charity.  But 
he  must  have  felt  an  electric  shock,  when  the  great 
teacher  introduced  the  next  character  in  the  scene.  We 
can  indeed  scarcely  estimate,  at  this  distant  place  and 
period,  the  elevated  position  which  our  Lord  occupied 
as  a  teacher  and  expounder  of  law ;  and  the  tremen- 


160  LECTUKE   XI. 

doiTS  power  of  his  eloquence,  wlien  lie  introduces  a  Sti- 
maritan  into  this  scene.  We  need  not  here  enter  into  the 
question  dividing  the  learned ;  whether  the  Samaritans 
were  of  totally  Pagan,  or  partly  Jewish  origin.  It  is 
enough  to  know  that  they  were  excommunicated  from 
the  Jewish  Church  ;  their  name  was  a  by-word  of  con- 
tempt ;  they  were  allowed  no  intercourse  with  the 
Jews ;  and  they  equally  hated  the  Jews.  And  yet 
Christ,  a  Jew,  teaching  Jews  and  Jewish  doctors  ;  after 
showing  the  cold  and  cruel  selfishness  of  eminent  Jews,, 
brings  in  a  Samaritan  as  possessed  of  humanity  enough 
to  pity  a  distressed  man  ;  which  they  had  not ;  of  no- 
bleness of  soul  sufiicient  to  help  even  a  Jew  ;  of  a  love 
so  strong  and  tender,  that  he  treated  his  enemy  just  as 
he  would  like  to  be  treated  in  similar  circumstances  ! 
This  simple  story  comes  with  the  weight  of  a  divine 
command  ;  with  the  light  of  a  beam  from  heaven  ;  set- 
tling for  ever  the  principle  that  all  morality,  benevo- 
lence and  piety  consist  in  so  loving  God,  as  to  love  our 
neighbor  as  ourselves. 

Tlie  question  then  returns  :  "  Who  is  my  neigh- 
bor ? "     The  answer  is  here  given. 

I.  It  is  not  merely  one  of  my  kestdeed. 

There  was  here  no  other  known  relationship  than 
that  which  begins  back  at  the  point  where  all  our 
genealogical  lines  meet,  that  great  root  which  bears  us 
all ;  Adam,  or  Noah.  There  is  indeed  a  special  claim 
of  kindred  upon  us.  But  the  most  perfect  respect  to 
that  claim  only  the  better  fits  us  to  meet  the  broader 
claims  of  humanity. 

il.  It  is  not  mekely  my  feiend. 

These  men  were  utter  strangers  to  each  other.    And 


THE    GOOD    SAMAKITAN.  161 

the  Samaritan  did  not  require  that  he  should  be  one  of 
those  whose  congeniality  of  tastes  or  pursuits  should 
have  brought  and  bound  them  together.  He  was  a 
stranger  ;  but  he  was  a  man.  The  law  does  not  mean 
by  neighbor, 


III.  One  or  my  Church. 

There  are  strong  affinities  occasioned  by  harmony 
of  belief  on  the  great  points  of  religious  doctrine  and 
duty.  Church  fellowship  is  a  blessed  tie,  and  involves 
peculiar  duties.  But  it  has  no  tendency  to  prevent 
humanity,  kindness  to  men  of  other  faith  and  other 
worship  than  our  own.  The  faith  and  worship  of  these 
two  men  were  not  only  different  from  one  another,  but 
arrayed  in  rival  claims  and  intense  hostility.     ITor, 

LV.  AeE  the  DISTESrCTIONS  OF  POLITICAL  PARTY  AD- 
MITTED  HERE. 

Every  man  in  a  State  ought  to  have  some  political 
creed.  And  if  other  men  agree  with  him,  they  are  a 
party,  unless  all  men  agree  with  them.  And  there 
may  be  such  a  thing  as  a  wise,  candid,  kind  attachment 
to  your  own  party,  which  shall  in  no  way  interfere 
with  perfect  benevolence  to  men  of  other  parties.  IS^or 
are 

Y.  ^National  differences  recognized  here. 

These  men  were  of  different  and  rival  nations.  Yet 
the  one  discharged  to  the  other  the  duties  of  benevo- 
lence. If  the  object  of  benevolent  regard  is  in  any  way 
limited  by  this  parable  to  any  thing  narrower  than  the 
whole  circle  of  the  human  race,  that  limit  is  found,  not 
In  physical  differences,  geographical  positions,  political 


162  LECTUKE   XI. 

alliances,  or  religious  convictions ;  not  in  any  thing 
personal  or  permanent,  but  in  tlie  mere  accident  of 
proximity.  My  neighbor  (which,  etymologically  con- 
sidered, means,  next  to  me),  as  interpreted  by  the  para- 
ble, signifies,  the  human  being  whom  Providence  places 
"within  the  reach  of  my  sympathies  and  beneficence. 
But  that  Providence  is,  by  its  wondrous  arrangement, 
diminishing  the  distances  between  men,  and  bringing 
every  case  of  sorrow  beneath  the  eye  of  charity,  and 
every  case  of  weakness  within  the  reach  of  the  stronger 
arm. 

Many  content  themselves  with  admu-ing  this  beau- 
tiful story.  But  we  have  more  serious  interest  in  it 
than  that.  Our  first  duty  is  to  see  in  it  an  exhibition 
of  God's  holy  law.  That  law  is  at  utter  enmity  with 
the  pride  of  the  heart,  as  well  as  its  selfishness.  Pride 
is  a  strong  purpose  of  soul  to  exalt  itself.  To  make  this 
appear  reasonable ;  and  so,  maintain  self-respect,  and 
keep  a  high  j)lace  in  the  respect  of  others,  it  seizes  on 
all  that  distinguishes  self  as  superior  to  others.  This  is 
the  source  of  much  that  is  called  patriotism.  There  is 
a  patriotism  perfectly  consistent  with  a  world-wide 
charity  ;  just  as  there  is  a  love  of  one's  family  consist- 
ent with  patriotism.  But  when  one  desires  to  find  oc- 
casion to  justify  contempt  or  indifference  toward  men 
of  another  nation,  his  patriotism  is  disguised  selfishness. 
Some  men  are  proud  of  their  families.  That  one  should 
take  an  interest  in  the  history  of  his  ancestors  ;  that  he 
should  be  peculiarly  pleased  with  their  greatness  or 
goodness,  is  natural,  proper,  and  commendable.  But 
there  is  an  easy  entrance  to  pride  there.  And  it 
may  always  be  known  by  this  efi'ect,  that  it  fosters  a 


TUE    GOOD    SAMAKITAN.  163 

sense  of  personal  superiority,  and  justifies  contem-ot  and 
indifference  towards  others.  There  is  too  a  pride  of 
talents,  wealth,  and  attainments,  which  is  totally  con- 
trary to  the  love  of  our  neighbor.  Equally  so  are  the 
prejudices  of  j)arty  and  sect.  The  Jews  called  the  Sa- 
maritans Cuthites,  idolaters  who  worshipped  the  image 
of  a  dove  ;  cursed  them  publicly  in  the  synagogue  ; 
prayed  that  they  might  have  no  portion  in  the  resurrec- 
tion of  life  ;  denied  the  validity  of  their  testimony  ;  de- 
nounced him  who  should  receive  a  Samaritan  into  his 
house  ;  affirmed  that  to  eat  a  morsel  of  his  fare,  was  to 
eat  swine's  flesh ;  and  would  rather  suffer  any  evil, 
than  to  be  indebted  to  him  for  a  favor.  Such  is  party- 
prejudice.  And  to  this  hateful  spirit  in  all  its  forms  the 
pure  law  of  God  is  opposed.  Charity  is  not  the  con- 
founding of  truth  and  error ;  does  not  require  you  to 
believe  that  black  is  white  because  your  neighbor  thinks 
so ;  charity  does  not  require  you  to  think  that  your 
neighbor's  eiToneous  opinions  on  religious  subjects  are 
harmless  to  himself  or  to  others.  But  it  does  forbid 
you  to  entertain  toward  his  j)erson  any  other  than  kind 
feelings  ;  and  it  requires  you  cordially  to  promote  his 
welfare. 

See  it  illustrated  in  the  case  of  this  Samaritan.  He 
pitied  the  afflicted.  The  others  did  not.  Human  dis- 
tress as  such  they  did  not  regard.  I*To  matter  how 
much,  nor  of  what  kind  existed,  provided  it  left  them 
and  their  friends  unharmed,  they  cared  not  for  it.  But 
charity  makes  another's  suffering  so  far  its  own,  as  to  do 
for  the  removal  of  them  what  it  consistently  can.  And 
in  this  work  charity  is  self-sacrilicing.  This  man  gave 
iiot  words  nor  tears,  but  time,  labor  and  money  ;  and,  by 
taiTying  in  the  wilderness,  exposed  himself  to  the  same 


164  LECTUEE   XI. 

treatment  whicli  this  man  had  received  from  the  roD- 
bers.  He  came  to  the  wretched  man,  examined  the 
extent  of  the  injury  done  him  ;  bound  up  his  wounds, 
perhaps  with  parts  of  his  own  garments  ;  poured  into 
his  wounds  the  remedy  then  in  common  use  in  popular 
surgery ;  set  him  on  his  own  beast ;  brought  him  to  an 
inn ;  and  there  nursed  him.  That  is  charity  in  Heathen 
or  Cliristian,  Jew  or  Samaritan.  And  it  stops  not  there. 
To  gentleness  and  kindness,  it  adds  thoroughness.  He 
pays  the  expense  of  entertaining  the  invalid,  leaves  him 
in  the  care  of  the  landlord,  and  pledges  to  pay  all  other 
expenses  that  may  be  incurred  until  he  shall  be  able  to 
take  care  of  himself.  This  is  the  forethought  of  chari- 
ty. It  seems  to  say  to  the  landlord :  if  this  poor  man 
should  express  any  anxieties  about  the  expense,  just 
say  to  him,  "  that  is  all  provided  for,  put  your  mind  en- 
tirely at  ease."  Oh  how  strong  is  this  exhibition  of 
kindness  to  this  Jew,  when  he  comes  to  know  the  whole 
case.  He  is  dying  in  a  wilderness.  A  priest  of  his 
own  church  comes  near  him,  sees  him,  and  turns  away 
from  him.  A  Levite  does  the  same.  Tlien  comes  a 
Samaritan ;  yes,  a  Samaritan,  and  does  all  this !  If 
ever  a  man  was  converted  from  seltislmess,  pride  and 
prejudice,  to  love  blessed  charity,  surely  that  man  was. 
"  The  law  is  holy  ;  the  commandment  holy,  and 
just,  and  good."  But  who  can  stand  before  it  ?  It  re- 
quires charity.  But  there  is  not  a  soul  of  us,  that  has 
not  broken  its  sacred  bonds.  It  requires  us  first  not  to 
injure  our  neighbor  in  his  property,  his  feelings,  his 
health,  his  piety,  his  good  name.  Who  can  say  :  I 
have  not  sinned  ?  It  requires  compassion  for  the  af- 
flicted, though  he  be  wicked,  obscm-e,  an  enemy.  It 
requires  self-sacritice  for  his  good.     Then  it  goes  forth, 


THE   GOOD    SAMARITAN.  165 

and  requires  that  we  love  Mm  as  we  love  oui-selves. 
How  is  it  tlieii  tliat  any  man  avoids  being  brought  to  a 
conviction  of  sin  by  that  holy  law  ?  How  could  this 
priest,  and  this  Levite,  satisfy  themselves  that  they 
were  going  to  heaven ;  and  how  do  men  now  satisfy 
themselves  on  this  momentous  point,  when  none  of  us 
Ccin  be  justified  by  this  law  ;  even  in  the  second  table, 
its  subordinate  j)art  ?  It  is  by  various  delusions.  One 
is,  the  acquirement  of  a  conventional  benevolence, 
which  consists  in  a  general  kind  feeling  towards  men  ; 
contributing  money  sometimes  to  the  poor,  and  support- 
ing public  charities.  Wherein  then  is  it  deficient  ?  In 
leaving  self  at  last  to  be  the  object  of  supreme  regard. 
Some  neighbors  may  be  loved ;  but  no  one  is  loved  as  self 
is  loved.  Fellow  subjects  of  God's  holy  kingdom,  stop 
here  and  look ;  for  you  may  get  conviction  enough  there 
to  save  your  souls.  "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself."  You  may  so  qualify  the  requirement  as  to 
neutralize  it ;  you  may  shrink  from  the  holy  light  that 
shines  in  it ;  you  may  adopt  some  other  standard,  but 
you  cannot  say  that  you  have  always  loved  yom*  neigh- 
bor as  yourself,  and  that  you  do  now  !  But  if  you  do 
not,  you  are  lost  by  the  law.  Do  not  deceive  your  soul. 
The  law  is  revealed  in  its  purity,  on  purpose  to  make 
you  know  and  condemn  yourself.  Tou  must  love  as 
this  Samaritan  did ;  love  all  men  ;  so  that  like  God, 
you  can  seek  their  happiness,  while  you  hate  their 
characters ;  so  that  like  Christ,  you  can  sacrifice  your- 
self for  your  enemies.  You  say  :  this  is  requiring  too 
much  ;  then  it  is  requiring  too  much  on  your  part  to 
ask  God  to  take  you  to  heaven ;  for  this  is  holiness,  and, 
without  holiness,  no  man  can  see  the  Lord. 

There  is  a  conventional  propriety  with  wliich  men 


16G  LECTURE    XI. 

satisfy  their  conpciences  ;  which  satisfy  society ;  aud^ 
therefore,  they  think  God  ought  to  be  satisfied.  There 
is  a  conventional  morality,  which  satisfies  men.  But 
it  is  all  external ;  it  has  no  love.  It  is  all  nega' 
five ;  it  does  nothing  for  the  good  of  others ;  but 
merely  abstains  from  certain  forms  of  evil.  Even 
a  heathen  could  say :  "  I  am  a  man,  and  interested  in 
every  thing  that  affects  mankind.  But  our  Christian 
morality  is  often  far  short  of  that.  Tliere  is  a  conven- 
tional religion  which  satisfies  some  men.  By  this  I 
mean  some  connection  with  a  Church ;  some  acts  of 
private  and  public  worship  ;  some  attachment  to  reli- 
gious notions  which  passes  with  the  person  for  piety  ; 
but  at  the  same  time,  he  has  not  charity.  Now  his  re- 
ligion will  be  his  ruin,  if  he  perseveres  in  being  just  as 
pious  as  he  has  been  ;  and  in  the  same  w^ay.  The  priest 
and  the  Levite  thought  a  great  deal  of  their  Church,  as 
the  Church  established  by  God.  And  they  were  mem- 
bers of  it,  held  in  good  repute.  But  they  did  not  love 
their  neighbor.  JSTo  doubt  they  had  very  satisfactory 
reasons  to  their  own  consciences  for  treating  that  man 
as  they  did.  But  they  did  not  satisfy  Christ.  So  he 
has  held  them  up  as  a  spectacle  to  the  universe,  of  men 
that  had  a  religion  which  satisfied  themselves,  but 
which  could  not  save  their  souls. 

"  By  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified  ;  for,  by  the 
law  is  the  knowledge  of  sin." 

Here  we  sev  the  heauty  of  the  Gospel.  It  abates  not 
a  tittle  of  the  law  ;  but  holds  up  its  pure  ideal,  its  per- 
fect standarl  above  all  conventional  moralities ;  abcve 
all  human  character,  attainments  and  excellencies.  It 
fcufferg  the  law  to  show  us  the  deformity  of  our  hearts 


THE    GOOD    SAMARITiVN.  167 

and  lives  It  enforces  tliis  too,  by  presenting  Christ  in 
contrast  with  man.  And  there  is  even  a  deep  revela- 
tion of  Christ  in  this  parable  ;  for  he  acted  forth  chari- 
ty as  no  creature  ever  can.  We  were  robbed,  beaten, 
bleeding,  and  perishing.  And  this  kind  stranger  came 
to  the  wilderness  where  we  were  dying,  and  saw  lis, 
and  had  compassion.  He  undertook  our  case.  He 
healed  our  wounds  by  a  balm  which  was  extracted 
from  his  own  broken  heart.  He  put  us  in  a  place  of 
safety,  provided  for  our  wants  ;  and  all,  at  his  own 
charges.  He  died  for  his  enemies,  and  prayed  for  his 
enemies.  In  the  contrast  of  our  spirit  and  life  with  his, 
we  see  our  own  deformity.  Then  the  Gospel  shows  us 
how  we  can  obtain  forgiveness,  though  we  have  so  failed 
of  our  duty.  But  it  is  never  by  abolishing  the  law,  or 
by  diminishing  our  respect  for  it.  "  What  is  written  in 
the  law  ;  how  readest  thou  ? "  was  Christ's  lirst  reply 
to  the  inquiry  ;  "  What  must  I  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life  ?  "  You  must  obey  the  law,  is  his  first  answer.  So 
he  answered  the  young  ruler.  I*Tow  he  did  not  believe 
that  either  of  them  had  obeyed  the  law.  But  convic- 
tion of  sin  is  the  first  step.  ITien,  when  we  are  hum- 
bled and  penitent,  it  shows  us  forgiveness  and  sanctifi- 
cation  through  Christ.  He  is  "  made  unto  us  sanctifi- 
cation."  By  loving  him  we  become  like  him  ;  by  com- 
muning with  him,  we  are  changed  into  his  likeness  ; 
by  prayer  we  receive  his  Spirit,  who  changes  our  vile 
hearts  that  they  may  be  like  unto  his  heart,  as  he  will 
change  hereafter,  our  "  vile  body,  that  it  may  be 
fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body." 

This  Parable  leads  ns  to  a  J'avorahle ^position  from 
whence  to  loolc  at  War ;  whether  ernplcyed  as  a  trade. 


168  LECTUKE    XI. 

as  an  amusement^  as  an  instrument  of  revenge^  or  of 
ambition.  Tlic  legitimate  spliere  of  "War  is  defence 
against  robbers  and  tyrants.  Every  nation  ongbt  to 
show  that  it  has  a  magistracy  wliicli  bearetli  the  sword 
not  in  vain,  tliougli  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord ;  a  magis- 
tracy which  is  a  terror  to  evil-doers,  both  at  home  and 
abroad.  But  to  make  war  to  gratify  a  desire  of  revenge 
is  murder  on  a  large  scale,  just  as  it  is  murder  for  one 
man  to  kill  another  from  motives  of  revenge.  When  a 
nation  has  been  insulted  by  another,  or  injured  in  its 
commerce  or  its  citizens,  war  is  neither  good  policy, 
nor  good  religion.  Remonstrance  is  the  first  resort. 
Try  that  patiently,  calmly  and  thoroughly.  If  that  is 
unavailing,  appeal  to  the  tribunal  of  human  justice,  the 
conscience  of  mankind.  If  that  brings  no  acknowledg- 
ment, withdraw  from  the  fellowship  of  that  nation,  and 
tell  the  world  your  reasons.  It  will  cost  you  less  money 
than  war  ;  and  an  immeasurable  wear  and  tear  of  con- 
science will  be  saved.  But  to  fight  for  an  insult  will 
involve  immeasurable  evils.  You  hurt  yourself  if  you 
rejoice  in  your  success.  You  injure  the  innocent  of 
your  own  and  of  the  enemy's  people.  You  are  sure  to 
do  wrong,  because  you  cannot  measure  how  much  mis- 
chief and  suffering  the  insult  demands,  nor  how  much 
you  inflict.  You  cannot  be  the  kind  Samaritan  ;  for, 
after  shooting  down  your  enemies,  it  will  be  a  strange 
operation  to  go  and  pity  them,  and  take  care  of  them, 
as  he  did. 

We  might  say  similar  things  of  wars  for  annexation, 
for  the  balance  of  power ;  and  of  war  as  a  trade.  A 
Hungarian  officer  was  appointed  to  command  the 
Cuban  expedition.  A  friend  warned  him  against  it. 
•'  I  know  it  is  bad,"  says  he  ;  "  but  my  countrymen  are 


THE    GOOD    SAMAKITAis".  169 

warriors  by  trade,  and  1  must  give  them  employment !  " 
That  is  more  worthy  of  the  infernal  regions,  than  of 
this  earth,  so  visited  by  heavenly  mercy. 

The  Parable  reaches  the  subjects  of  the  slavery-codes 
and  slavery-extension.  I  join  no  body  of  men  on  any 
side  of  this  subject,  because  on  such  subjects  men  are 
very  apt  to  think  and  speak  for  you,  or  to  excommuni- 
cate you  for  an  opinion.  I  speak  on  it  in  the  fear  of 
no  man,  but  of  my  Judge ;  for  I  am  accountable  to  God 
supremely,  and  very  subordinately  to  men  and  par- 
ties. South  or  North.  I  sj)eak,  then,  as  a  minister  of 
Christ's  Gospel,  of  the  laws,  the  grave,  dignified,  ap- 
proved laws  which  lie  on  the  statute-books  of  free  and 
independent  States,  of  which  they  are  not  ashamed,  but 
in  which  they  glory  ;  for  speaking  of  which,  they  can- 
not accuse  any  man  of  unfriendliness  or  fanaticism. 
These  laws  make  man  a  chattel.  He  has  no  will  of  his 
own  in  regard  to  the  kind  or  degree  of  labor  he  shall 
perform,  the  person  he  shall  serve,  the  place  he  shall 
inhabit,  the  degree  of  personal  improvement  he  shall 
obtain.  He  has  no  right  to  the  fruits  of  his  labor  ;  he 
has  no  right  to  marry  for  life  ;  he  cannot  educate,  nor 
locate  his  children  ;  he  cannot  leave  them  any  thing  by 
will ;  he  cannot  enter  his  house,  and  say,  this  is  my 
castle  ;  he  is  deprived  of  all  these  natural  and  inaliena- 
ble rights  by  law,  as  if  he  were  a  criminal  and  a  pris- 
oner, having  forfeited  them  to  the  State. 

Now  I  have  no  angry  disputes  with  any  man  ;  I 
hold  to  the  constitution,  and  the  compromise,  and  I  love 
the  slave-holder  and  the  slave  ;  but  I  say,  the  Samari- 
tan of  this  parable  would  never  have  made  such  a  law ; 
nor  claimed  anv  such  rights,  if  he  had  been  born  under 


170  LECTUKE   XI. 

it.  And  it  is  not  love  to  his  neighbor  that  recoLciles 
any  man  to  it ;  much  less  so  is  the  desire  to  introduce 
the  same  selfishness  to  territories  yet  unsoiled  by  such 
legislation,  yet  unblighted  by  such  an  institution.  And 
so  I  find  good  men  reasoning  in  the  slave-holding  States. 

This  Palpable  illustrates  the  missionary  enterprise. 
The  Son  of  God  came  to  save  a  fallen  race.  To  deny 
that  any  portion  of  our  race  need  his  salvation,  is,  to 
pour  contempt  on  his  person,  his  mission,  his  word,  and 
his  sacrifice.  Now  many  that  afifect  to  consider  them- 
selves as  having  attained  to  the  perfect  conception  of 
charity,  ridicule  the  attempt  to  make  Christ  and  his 
salvation  known  to  the  people  that  have  not  known 
him.  This  is  acting  over  again  the  part  of  the  priest 
and  the  Levite.  No  matter  what  their  j^retensions, 
whether  to  morality,  or  piety,  or  charity,  they  "  pass 
by,  on  the  other  side,"  denying  that  their  neighbor  is  in 
want ;  or  leaving  him  to  the  mercies  of  a  benevolent 
Creator,  just  as  their  prototypes  did  in  the  wilderness 
between  Jericho  and  Jerusalem.  "  It  is  a  shame,"  we 
sometimes  hear  them  cry,  "  to  sacrifice  such  valuable 
lives  among  savages."  Yet  some  of  these  are  friends 
of  war ;  some  approve  of  Sir  John  Franklin's  expedi- 
tion. But  be  they  who  they  may  ;  however  great  their 
wisdom  in  their  own  estimation,  or  in  that  of  admiring 
friends,  the  Saviour  teaches  us,  that  a  self-sacrificing 
benevolence  for  the  benefit  of  the  suflPering  and  per- 
ishing, is  the  fulfilling  of  the  second  table  of  the  law  ; 
is  the  true  wisdom,  goodness  and  greatness  of  man ; 
and  shows  by  his  own  example  that  true  charity  will 
carry  the  Gospel  to  those  destitute  of  it,  at  any  per- 
sonal sacrifice. 


IP 


THE   GOOD    SAMARITAN.  171 

This  Pardble  shows  tis  why  the  world  is  in  confu- 
sion. Selfishness  is  the  source  of  our  misery.  It  made 
these  robbers  miserable.  It  made  this  traveller  mis- 
erable. It  prevented  these  religious  men  from  being 
happj.  And  benevolence  made  the  Samaritan  noble 
and  happy,  comforted  the  traveller,  and  has  furnished 
a  beautiful  picture  and  a  valuable  lesson  for  every 
generation  of  men. 

This  Pai'dble  shows  what  will  constitute  the  essence 
andhlessedness  of  the  millenniunfi  and  of  heaven  /  piety 
toward  God,  and  benevolence  to  men. 


LECTURE  Xn. 

THE  RELENTLESS  SERVANT;  OR,  THE  SPIRIT  OF  FORGIVENESS.. 

Matt,  xviii.  21-35.  "  Then  came  Peter  to  Mm,  and  said,  Lord,  how 
oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me,  and  I  forgive  him  ?  till  seven  times  ? 
Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee.  Until  seven  times :  but.  Until 
seventy  times  seven.  Therefore  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  likened  unto  a 
certain  king,  which  would  take  account  of  his  servants.  And  when  he 
had  begun  to  reckon,  one  was  brought  unto  him,  which  owed  him  ten 
thousand  talents.  But  forasmuch  as  he  had  not  to  pay,  his  lord  com- 
manded him  to  be  sold,  and  his  wife,  and  children,  and  all  that  he  had, 
and  payment  to  be  made.  The  servant  therefore  fell  down,  and  worshipped 
him,  saying.  Lord,  have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all.  Then 
the  lord  of  that  servant  was  moved  with  compassion,  and  loosed  him,  and 
forgave  him  the  debt.  But  the  same  servant  went  out,  and  found  one  of 
his  fellow  servants,  which  owed  him  a  himdred  pence  :  and  he  laid  hands 
on  him,  and  took  him  by  the  throat,  saying.  Pay  me  that  thou  owest.  And 
his  fellow  servant  fell  down  at  his  feet,  and  besought  him,  saying.  Have 
patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all.  And  he  would  not :  but  went 
and  cast  him  into  prison,  till  he  should  pay  the  debt.  So  when  his  fellow- 
servants  saw  what  was  done,  they  were  very  sorry,  and  came  and  told  unto 
their  lord  all  that  was  done.  Then  his  lord,  after  that  he  had  called  him, 
said  unto  him,  0  thou  wicked  servant,  I  forgave  thee  all  that  debt,  because 
thou  desiredst  me  :  Shouldest  not  thou  also  have  had  compassion  on  thy 
fellow  servant,  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ?  And  his  lord  was  wroth,  and 
delivered  him  to  the  tormentors,  till  he  should  pay  all  that  was  due  unto 
him.  So  likewise  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye  from 
your  hearts  forgive  not  every  one  his  brother  their  trespasses." 

Our  Lord's  remarks  concerning  discipline  by  the 
Church,  led  Peter  to  inquire  how  often  we  must  forgive 


THE  RELENTLESS  SERVANT.  1Y3 

one  who  offends  us.  He  was  acquainted  undoubtedly 
with  the  Jewish  rule  of  forgiving  an  offender  three 
times.  But  he  had  perceived  that  Christ's  precepts  in- 
culcated something  in  advance  of  that.  He  therefore 
put  it  at  seven  times,  as  in  his  estimation,  certainly 
going  as  far  as  could  be  required  of  human  nature. 
"  Lord,  how  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me,  and 
I  forgive  him  ;  till  seven  times  ?  Jesus  saith  unto  him  ; 
I  say  not  unto  thee.  Until  seven  times :  but,  Until  seven- 
ty times  seven ; "  that  is,  without  limit.  To  enforce 
this,  the  parable  we  are  to  consider  is  related. 

The  scope  of  this  parable  is  very  obvious.  Its  force 
lies  in  an  appeal  to  the  natural  reason  of  mankind  ;  but 
the  main  fact  on  which  that  appeal  is  founded  is  super- 
natural ;  it  is  the  free  forgiveness  of  all  our  sins  on  a 
mere  request,  without  rendering  any  equivalent.  It  is 
designed  to  urge  on  man  the  spirit  and  exercise  of  for- 
giveness, by  the  overwhelming  considerations,  that  if 
we  reach  heaven  it  must  be  by  a  wonderful  exer- 
cise of  forbearance,  mercy  and  forgiveness  on  the 
part  of  our  Creator ;  and  that,  if  we  have  not  a  for- 
giving temper,  we  are  not  of  those  whom  he  will 
forgive. 

It  is  very  obvious  from  the  various  interpretations 
of  this,  as  well  as  many  others  of  the  parables,  that 
their  force  is  destroyed  by  the  application  of  false 
principles  of  interpreting.  A  parable  is  a  species  of 
analogical  reasoning.  Suppose  I  speak  of  Attila  as 
an  eagle  rushing  from  the  north  upon  the  effeminate 
Koman  empire,  and  seizing  his  prey,  would  it  be  a 
sound  and  sober  exposition  of  my  meaning  to  show 
that  the  Gothic  conqueror  had  wings  and  feathers,  and 
iterally  flew  through  the  air  ?  or,  if  I  speak  of  a  child 


174  LECTUKE   XII. 

as  a  budding  rose,  should  the  resemblance  be  carried 
to  things  where  it  does  not  hold  ?  I  merely  meant  tc 
refer  to  the  delightful  impression  which  a  child  makes 
on  my  feelings  when  I  see  that  daily  unfolding  of  new 
physical  and  mental  beauty ;  but  one  of  these  thorough 
interpreters  shall  make  me  describe  a  child  with  leaves 
and  roots  and  thorns  like  a  rose-bush.  Let  us  be  sober 
when  we  deal  with  God's  word.  The  one  great  point 
of  the  parable  before  us  is  that  which  I  have  stated. 
But  there  are  several  false  resemblances  which  the  un- 
skilful may  fasten  upon  it.  They  may  apply  the  para- 
ble to  the  subject  of  property.  It  would,  however, 
make  utter  confusion  to  regard  the  subject  of  money- 
debt  in  the  parable,  at  all  in  a  literal  sense.  We  owe 
God  no  such  debt ;  he  never  remits  any  such  debt ; 
and  the  subject  of  property  is  touched  here  only  in  the 
most  incidental  way,  in  inculcating  mercy  where  the 
rigorous  exaction  of  our  claims  would  be  ruinous  to 
our  debtor.  But  that  is  entirely  incidental  to  the  Sa- 
viour's instruction  here.  He  is  speaking  of  moral  debts, 
offences  to  our  feelings ;  and  of  the  inward  remitting, 
the  heart-forgiveness.  Christ  never  required  commu- 
nity of  property.  He  never  encouraged  laxness  in 
business,  or  required  the  industrious  to  encourage  the 
indolent.  "  If  any  will  not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat," 
is  the  inspired  rule  on  this  subject.  Our  Lord  never 
encouraged  a  laxness  in  business  that  would  foster 
fraudulence,  nor  a  mercy  that  would  make  us  fools, 
He  only  requires  us  to  adopt  mercy  in  place  of  busi 
ness  principles,  w^hen  we  deal  with  unavoidable  poverty ; 
but  that  is  not  the  duty  he  is  here  inculcating.  In  the 
parallel  passage  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  "  forgive  us  our 
debts  as  we  forgive  our  debtors,"  he  does  not  make  the 


TUE    EELENTLESS    SEKVAIfT.  175 

forgiveness  of  our  sins  by  God  to  depend  upon  our  not 
requiring  men  to  pay  us  what  they  owe  us. 

J^or  does  the  parable  touch  the  matter  of  civil 
punishments.  Christianity  would  be  the  enemy  of 
human  society,  if  its  mighty  influence  were  opposed 
to  the  punishment  of  crime.  It  forbids  personal  re- 
venge, popular  violence,  and  the  perversion  of  govern- 
mental power  to  tyranny  and  oppression.  But  the 
defence  of  the  public  welfare  by  penal  statutes,  and  the 
rigid  execution  of  them,  is  approved  in  all  the  teach- 
ings of  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles.  The  Christian 
view  of  rights  is  quite  peculiar.  It  tells  the  poor  to  be 
quiet  under  the  oppression  of  the  mighty  ;  but  it  hurls 
thunderbolts  at  the  heads  of  tyrants.  "  Go  to  now,  ye 
rich  men,  weep  and  howl  for  your  miseries  that  shall 
come  upon  you."  It  bids  the  slave  be  faithful  and 
contented  for  Christ's  sake  ;  but  it  tells  the  master  you 
have  a  master  who  will  shortly  examine  your  slave- 
code,  and  hold  you  to  the  exactest  spirit  of  the  rule, 
"  what  ye  would  that  others  should  do  to  you,  do  ye 
also  to  them."  It  bids  the  Christian  never  to  contend 
very  violently  for  his  civil  rights ;  but  it  thi'ows  the 
fires  of  hell  in  the  face  of  him  that  presumes  to  violate 
those  rights.  "  If  a  man  smite  thee  on  one  cheek,  turn 
the  other,"  it  says  to  the  injured.  But  to  the  injurer 
it  says:  "What  mean  ye  that  ye  beat  my  people  to 
pieces,  and  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor,  saith  the  Lord 
God  of  hosts  ?  "  Thus  is  the  Gospel  at  once  the  pro- 
moter of  personal  piety  ;  of  social  order,  and  the  sta- 
bility and  righteousness  of  governments. 

Kor  does  this  parable  exhibit  the  history  of  a  person 
in  any  of  its  characters,  but  illustrates  a  principle  in 
each.     One  who  denies  the  final  perseverance  of  the 


176  LECTUKE  xn. 

believer  as  an  absolute  certainty  may  say,  bere  is  a 
man  forgiven,  and  then  condemned.  But  even  be 
•would  sbrink  from  all  the  consequences  of  bis  own  in- 
terpretation. He  must  then  drop  analogy,  and  take 
resemblance  for  bis  guide ;  and  be  will  bave  God 
tbreatening  to  sell  a  man's  wife  and  cbildren  to  pay 
bis  debts  ;  and  be  will  bave  a  man  forgiven  of  God, 
wben  God  sees  tbat  in  bis  beart  is  an  unforgiving  tem- 
per ;  and  be  will,  moreover,  bave  a  man  seized  and 
cast  immediately  into  perdition,  if  be  once  become  un- 
duly angry  after  bis  conversion. 

'Nov  does  tbe  parable  teacb  tbat  we  are  forgiven  of 
God,  because  we  forgive  otbers.  Unless  you  obtain  a 
clear  view  of  tbe  distinction  between  tbe  ground  and 
tbe  condition  of  forgiveness,  you  can  never  barmonize 
tbe  various  parts  of  tbe  Bible.  For  instance,  it  is  often 
said  tbat  we  cannot  be  saved  by  tbe  rigbteousness  of 
tbe  law.  "  By  tbe  deeds  of  tbe  law  sball  no  flesb  be 
justified."  And  yet  again  it  is  said,  Abrabam  was  jus- 
tified by  works.  Mary  is  said  to  be  forgiven  because 
sbe  loved  mucb.  Tbere  is  no  contradiction  bere  ;  for 
tbe  ground  of  all  forgiveness  is  tbe  atonement  of  Cbrist ; 
"  tbe  blood  of  Cbrist  cleansetb  from  all  sin."  But  re- 
pentance and  faitb  are  tbe  conditions  of  salvation. 
And  a  thousand  tests  of  these  conditions  are  presented, 
tbat  we  may  not  be  deceived.  In  James's  day  men 
bad  reached  tbe  antinomian  ground  of  depending  on  a 
speculative  belief  in  Cbrist.  He  declares  that  Abraham 
was  justified  by  a  living  faitb,  a  faitb  that  works  obe- 
dience. But  this  parable  presents  neither  tbe  ground 
of  forgiveness,  nor  the  condition  of  forgiveness ;  but 
one  quality  which  must  ever  be  found  in  tbat  re- 
)entance  and  faitb  which  secure  forgiveness.     "We  are 


THE    RELENTLESS    SERVANT.  1Y7 

not  taught  to  pray,  "  forgive  because  we  forgive,"  but 
as  we  forgive. 

The  doctrine  of  the  parable  then  we  may  state  in 
these  terms : 

The  spiHt  of  forgiveness  is  indispensable  to  our 
being  forgiven.  A  forgiven  sinner  must  forgive  cor- 
dially. To  enforce  this  principle  a  scene  is  introduced, 
in  which  the  actors  are  an  eastern  king ;  a  satrap,  or 
governor  of  a  province  ;  an  inferior  officer ;  many  of 
his  own  rank ;  and  the  jailers,  here  called  tormentors 
or  torturers,  because  they  often  put  prisoners  to  the 
torture,  either  to  force  confession  or  induce  their  friends 
to  release  them.  When  this  provincial  governor's  ac- 
counts are  rendered,  it  seems  that  he  owes  an  immense 
sum,  perhaps  the  revenues  of  many  years  from  his 
province,  accumulated  in  his  hands  and  squandered. 
"  Ten  thousand  talents"  is  undoubtedly  in  the  Greek  an 
indefinite,  immense,  immeasurable  sum.  Ten  talents  of 
silver  would  be  $17,100,000 ;  and  of  gold,  $273,750,000. 
But  the  Greek  word  myriad  best  expresses  it.  When 
the  king  discovers  the  extent  of  his  indebtedness,  in 
Oriental  style  he  commanded  him  to  be  sold,  his  wife, 
children,  palaces,  equipages,  lands,  and  all  his  pos- 
sessions. The  affrighted  debtor  pleads  for  delay,  with 
the  promise  of  paying  all.  And  to  his  surprise,  the 
whole  debt  is  cancelled.  Going  from  the  royal  pres- 
ence joyous  and  free,  he  is  soon  to  have  an  opportunity 
of  testing  his  spirit,  whether  it  is  generous  and  gentle 
like  his  sovereign's  ;  whether  such  generosity  as  he 
has  witnessed  has  suitably  affected  his  own  heart ;  or 
whether  all  his  joy  is  selfish,  and  his  heart  only  hard- 
ened by  goodness.  He  meets  another  officer,  probably 
as  much  infen'or  to  him  as  he  was  to  the  king,  who 


Y* 


178  LECTURE   XII. 

owed  him  fourteen  dollars.  Would  you  believe  it !  lie 
was  thrown  into  a  rage,  and  seized  the  man  as  soon  as 
he  met  him,  taking  him  by  the  throat,  saying,  "pay 
me  that  thou  owest."  The  poor  debtor  fell  at  his  feet, 
and  repeated  the  very  prayer  which  this  creditor  had 
used.  But  he  that  had  wept,  was  unmoved  by  tears  ; 
he  that  had  prayed,  disregarded  prayer ;  he  that  was 
forgiven,  would  not  forgive.  He  took  the  law  in  his 
hand,  stood  for  his  rights,  cast  the  debtor  into  prison. 
This  conduct  grieved  his  fellow  courtiers,  who  knew 
the  whole  history  ;  and  they  carried  their  complaint  to 
the  king.  His  indignation  was  enkindled  ;  he  ordered 
the  wretched  man  into  his  presence,  and  thus  repri- 
manded him  :  "  O  thou  wicked  servant,  I  forgave  thee 
all  that  debt,  because  thou  desiredest  me  ;  shouldest 
not  thou  also  have  had  compassion  on  thy  fellow- 
servant,  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee  ? "  And  he  de- 
livered him  to  the  jailers  to  keep  him  in  their  dreadful 
hands  until  he  should  pay  all  his  debt.  It  is  striking 
that  he  calls  him  no  severe  name  as  a  debtor  ;  but  says, 
in  view  of  his  selfishness  and  cruelty  ;  "  Oh  thou  wicked 
man  ! " 

It  now  will  complete  our  examination  of  this  para- 
ble to  observe 

I.  What  it  is  to  forgive  an  offending  beothee. 

Wrong-doing  has  several  relations  ;  one  to  the  gov- 
ernment of  God.  When  one  man  injures  another,  he 
violates  God's  law.  The  injured  party  has  nothing  di- 
rectly to  do  with  that  consequence  of  it.  It  may  vio- 
late a  law  of  society.  With  that  he  cannot  interfere. 
There  is  an  effect  on  the  heart  of  the  wrong-doer.  With 
that  the  offended  party  cannot  directly  interfere.     But 


THE   RELENTLESS    SERVANT.  179 

it  has  relatious  also  to  his  feelings  and  conduct.  There 
his  duty  begins.  The  oifended  party  must  beware  of 
the  temptation  to  do  as  much  wrong  as  he  receives. 

1.  The  spirit  of  forgimness  does  not  im])ly  an  entire 
absence  of  anger.  Some  persons  think  all  anger  is  sin- 
ful ;  and  hence  they  are  shocked  to  hear  God  speak  of 
himself  as  being  angry.  The  Bible  never  says  :  be 
drunk,  and  sin  not ;  but  it  does  say :  "  be  ye  angry, 
and  sin  not."  Anger  is  a  natural  and  innocent  passion, 
easily  carried  to  excess  ;  but  not  necessarily.  The  oc- 
casion of  its  proper  excitement  is,  when  we  see  or  hear 
of  wrong  actions  or  words.  It  is  given  to  men  for  the 
checking  of  wrong-doing  in  others,  and  for  a  proper 
degree  of  self-defence.  "  If  thy  brother  trespass,  re- 
buke him."  That  is  the  proper  exercise  of  anger ;  to 
have  and  to  manifest  an  indignation  at  a  wrong,  not  par- 
ticularly as  against  us,  but  as  a  wrong  in  itself ;  a  wrong 
against  God ;  against  the  offender  himself ;  and  against  us. 

2.  The  spirit  of  forgiveness  is  benevolence^  which  re- 
mains unmoved  hy  any  amount  of  personal  suffering. 
The  pride  of  man  makes  his  anger  become  revenge.  He 
ceases  to  be  affected  by  the  moral  wrong  in  an  action,  be- 
cause he  is  doing  an  equal  wrong  in  his  selfish  hatred  of 
the  wrong-doer.  A  mind  rightly  balanced  cannot  esteem 
a  person  so  much,  in  whom  it  sees  a  wrong  disposition, 
as  it  could  if  that  wrong  had  not  existed.  But  we  must 
ever  discriminate  between  complacency  and  benevo- 
lence. Tour  complacency  may  be  disturbed,  and  even 
destroyed  by  the  wrong  act  of  another  person;  but 
your  benevolence  must  not  be  changed  by  seventy 
times  seven  injuries. 

The  law  of  forgiveness  may  then  be  reduced  to  these 
rules : 


^* 


180  LECTUKE    XII. 

Do  not  exaggerate  the  evil  implied  in  the  offence. 
The  danger  here,  is,  that  our  complacency  may  be  en- 
tirely withdrawn,  and  we  shall  cease  to  see  any  thing  but 
evil  in  the  person  offending.  That  is  the  form  of  preju- 
dice which  political  parties,  national  antipathies,  and 
sectarian  feelings  produce.  A  man  may  injure  you 
wrongfully,  and  yet  have  more  goodness  left  in  him, 
than  there  is  in  you  whom  he  offends.  You  should  be 
willing  to  see  it,  and  acknowledge  it,  and  esteem  him 
for  it. 

Be  ready  to  restore  all  your  complacency  when  he 
gives  evidence  of  sincere  repentance.  "  If  thy  brother 
trespass  against  thee,  rebuke  him ;  but  if  he  repent, 
forgive  him  ; "  put  him  back  again  in  the  warm  affec- 
tions of  thy  heart ;  forgive  him  from  the  heart,  and 
declare  it  to  him  cordially  ;  treat  him  and  his  past 
offence,  just  as  you  wish  God  to  treat  you  and  your 
past  offences.  Forget  it,  only  as  it  tends  to  make  you 
regard  him  with  more  sympathy.  A  deaf  mute  on 
being  asked,  what  is  gratitude,  wrote  for  answer, 
"  the  memory  of  the  heart."  I  would  borrow  his  idea ; 
and  say,  forgiveness  is  the  heart's  oblivion  of  injuries. 
This  sentiment  is  thus  beautifully  illustrated  in  the 
epitaph  on  Bishop  Boulter : 

"  Some  •write  their  wrongs  in  marble  ;  he,  mere  just, 
Stooped  down  serene,  and  wrote  them  in  the  duBt ; 
Trod  under  foot,  the  sport  of  every  wind, 
Swept  from  the  earth,  and  blotted  from  his  mind. 
There  buried  in  the  dust  he  bade  them  lie, 
And  grieved  they  could  not  'scape  th'  All-Seeing  eye.* 

A  third  rule  ;  it  takes  no  delight  in  the  sufferings 
gf  the   offender,  merely   because   he  has  despised,  or 


#r 


THE    RELEN'jr.ESS    SERVAJ^T.  181* 

injured,  or  hated  us.  "  Charity  rejoiceth  not  in  evil." 
Revenge  does.  If  her  enemy  hunger,  charity  will  give 
him  bread.  She  has  no  desire  to  vindicate  herself.  If 
we  have  a  sense  of  wrong  as  wrong,  even  though  it  be 
against  ourselves,  we  may  rightly  desire  to  have  law 
maintained,  justice  established,  and  pride  abased.  This 
is  the  spirit  of  those  imjorecatory  Psalms  which  are 
such  a  stumbling-block  to  many  persons.  When  we 
are  commanded  (Kom.  xii.)  not  to  avenge  ourselves, 
why  is  it  immediately  added  :  "  Yengeance  is  mine,  I 
will  repay,  saith  the  Lord  ? "  Can  it  be  for  any  other 
reason,  than  that  the  sentiment  of  justice  is  not  wrong, 
but  right,  and  may  rightly  look  for  the  vindication  of 
right  ?  But  we  are  not  the  avengers.  We  are  par- 
doned, sinners  ;  having  had  ten  thousand  talents  for- 
given us,  we  may  well  forgive  all  personal  injuries,  and 
hope  that  the  transgressor  may  repent  as  we  have  done, 
and  lind  the  same  mercy.  But  if  he  do  not,  we  must 
still  wish  him  well,  and  leave  him  to  a  righteous  God. 
Our  duty  is,  if  we  are  smitten  on  one  cheek,  to  turn  the 
other  also.  We  are  to  give  our  coat  when  our  cloak  is 
taken  from  us.  We  are  to  go  two  miles  with  him  that 
compels  us  to  go  one.  In  all  this  it  is  simply  incul- 
cated that  we  have  no  revenge,  no  hatred  ;  that  wc 
render  not  evil  for  evil ;  that  we  bear  and  forbear  ;  be 
injured,  rather  than  contend  ;  be  willing  to  do  good  be- 
yond all  claims  of  right.  When  the  Saviour  com- 
mented on  the  Levitical  law,  and  condemned  the  senti- 
ment of  "  an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth," 
he  referred  to  personal  revenge.  Moses  gave  that  law 
to  the  magistrate.  Wicked  men  had  brought  it  down 
to  personal  practice. 

These  rules  exhibit  the  essential  elements  of  the 


182  LECTUKE    XII. 

spirit  of  forgiveness ;  not  to  overlook  the  good  in  a  per- 
son offending  ns  ;  to  be  ready  to  love  him  on  his  re- 
penting, as  before  his  offence  ;  to  take  no  delight  in  his 
sufferings  ;  to  have  no  desire  of  revenge.  We  now 
notice, 

n.    How  THIS  IS    REPLIED    IN   THE    CONDITIONS   OF    OUK 

FORGIVENESS. 

Repentance  and  Faith  are  those  conditions.    But, 

1.  Repentance  is  a  I'estoration  in  the  hearty  of  the 
natural  sentiment  of  justice.  We  have  not  repented, 
unless  we  have  subjected  our  emotions  to  right  reason, 
and  an  enlightened  conscience.  But  right  reason  re- 
quires all  that  is  required  in  the  sj)irit  of  forgiveness ; 
that  we  acknowledge  and  esteem  the  good  that  is  in 
him  who  injures  us ;  that  we  fully  restore  our  esteem 
to  him  who  repents  of  his  error  ;  that  we  have  no  ma- 
licious delight  in  the  sufferings  even  of  an  enemy  ;  that 
we  leave  the  vindication  of  right  and  truth  in  the  hands 
of  the  magistrate  and  of  the  Lord.  Selfishness  exag- 
gerates our  own  sufferings,  and  attaches  a  peculiar 
guilt  to  evils  committed  against  us.  It  leads  to  a 
malignant  hatred  of  our  enemies,  to  an  excessive  de- 
sire to  bring  down  all  who  despise  us.  But  this  is 
not  reasonable.  And  true  repentance  is  the  return 
to  all  that  is  reasonable  and  just.  Therefore  we  are 
never  forgiven  ff  we  have  not  the  spirit  of  forgiveness. 
Moreover, 

2.  Repentance  is  a  return  to  the  sjpirit  of  obedience. 
But  God  commands  us  to  forgive.  "  If  ye  forgive  not 
men  their  trespasses,  neither  will  your  Father  forgive 
your  trespasses.  When  ye  stand  praying,  forgive  if  ye 
have  aug]it  against  any.     Love  your  enemies  ;  bless 


THE   RELENTLESS  SERVANT.  188 

them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you, 
and  pray  for  them  that  despitefully  use  you,  and 
persecute  you."  He  that  repents,  therefore,  repents 
of  all  his  disobedience  to  these  commands,  and  now 
desires  and  seeks  for  a  complete  conformity  to  them. 
And  he  that  indulges  an  unforgiving  temper,  is  there- 
fore still  impenitent,  and  so  unforgiven  himself.  More- 
over, 

3.  Faith  is  itself  the  reception  of  full  and  gratuitous 
forgiveness.  Tlie  Gospel  presents  God  as  indulging  no 
personal  revenge  ;  as  continuing  his  benevolent  regard 
for  men  after  all  their  transgressions  ;  as  making  a  pro- 
vision for  their  forgiveness  ;  as  forgiving  cordially  the 
greatest  sinner,  on  his  repenting.  When  therefore  a 
sinner  comes  to  seek  forgiveness  from  his  Creator,  he 
is  required  to  exercise  faith  in  God,  which  is  not  only 
confidence,  but  a  cordial  assent  to  his  mode  of  for- 
giveness, a  full  and  profound  sympathy  with  that 
grace  by  which  he  is  pardoned.  Here  then  is  a 
death-blow  to  the  revengeful  spirit,  just  so  far  as  faith 
is  exercised. 

It  destroys  the  pride  which  is  the  mainspring  of  re- 
venge. It  is  only  when  one  unduly  estimates  himself, 
that  he  unduly  regards  the  injuries  he  receives.  But 
how  can  one  who  has  humbled  his  sc  ul  before  God,  and 
supplicated  forgiveness  for  his  innumerable  offences, 
turn  away  from  that  mercy-seat,  and  display  to  his  fel- 
low-sinner an  unforgiving  disposition  ?  The  thing  is 
impossible,  so  far  as  he  has  faith,  for  faith  begins  in  an 
utter  prostration  of  pride. 

It  is  also  a  fervent  admiration  of  God's  gracious 
disposition.  He  that  loves  God  for  his  forgiving 
clemency,  will  desire  to  possess  the  same  iu  himself. 


184  LECTURE   XII. 

Faith  is  likewise  a  cordial  sympathy  with  God  in 
his  kindness.  Therefore  it  is  impossible  that  one  in  the 
exercise  of  that  faith  which  earnestly  and  with  de- 
light contemplates  God  blotting  out  innumerable  sins, 
and  those  his  own,  should  meet  a  fellow-transgressor, 
whose  sin  against  him  must  be  immeasurably  less  than 
his  against  God,  and  take  him  by  the  throat,  and 
cast  him  into  prison,  while  he  is  supplicating  for  for- 
bearance. 

An  irascible,  proud,  revengeful,  unforgimng  temper 
is  then  as  destructi/ve  as  any  other  sin.  Why  should 
any  justify  it  ?  Some  do.  They  think  the  bad  treat- 
ment they  receive  is  peculiarly  offensive  ;  that  it  is 
of  great  importance  that  they  should  tolerate  no  insult, 
and  particularly  from  such  persons.  But  how  can  they 
use  that  prayer  ;  forgive  me  as  I  forgive  others  ?  If 
you  deal  with  absolute  justice  towards  men,  then  God 
will  so  deal  with  you.  "  With  what  measure  ye  mete, 
it  shall  be  meted  to  you.  He  shall  have  judgment 
without  mercy,  that  showed  no  mercy."  God  gives 
no  pardon  where  there  is  not  such  penitence  as  pro- 
duces humility,  and  such  faith  as  produces  love. 

If  any  has  such  a  disposition,  let  him  then  abandon 
it  by  repenting  of  it ;  by  asking  forgiveness  for  it ;  by 
praying  for  the  sanctifying  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit ; 
by  studying  the  meek  and  lowly  example  of  him  who 
prayed  for  his  murderers ;  by  comparing  his  sins  to- 
wards God  with  other  men's  injm'ies  and  offences 
towards  him ;  by  seeing  how  perfectly  a  vindictive 
spirit  renders  one  unfit  to  die,  and  unfit  for  heaven 

How  careful  should  parents  and  instructors  be  to 
inculcate  this  lesson   on    children !      As   they  repeat 


THE   RELENTLESS    SEEVAJ^T.  185 

the  Lord's  prayer  every  niglit  or  morning,  fix  their 
attention  on  that  remarkable  limitation  of  the  prayer 
for  forgiveness — "  as  we  forgive  others,"  and  show  them 
its  meaning. 

This  subject  shows  us  the  wonderful  goodm/iss  of 
God.  He  loves  his  enemies.  He  has  no  com- 
placency in  them,  because  they  are  wicked ;  but  his 
benevolence  is  unchanged,  unwearied  by  all  their 
provocations. 

He  always  forgives  when  it  is  possible  ;  and  when 
he  does  not  forgive,  it  is  no  unkind,  selfish,  or  revenge- 
ful feeling  which  hinders  him.  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  forgiving  his  people,  every  day,  their  treatment  of 
him.  They  are  not  wilfully  violating  his  command- 
ments, but  they  are  defective,  in  their  best  estate. 

"When  God  takes  vengeance,  it  is  the  avenging  of 
insulted  justice ;  the  defence  of  violated  law ;  the 
protection  of  order,  the  righteous  expression  of  oppo- 
sition to  sin. 

He  aims  to  secure  for  an  ofiender  defence  against 
injustice.  That  is  the  aim  of  this  requirement.  A 
man  has  injured  you.  If  you  avenge  yourself,  you 
will  in  turn  do  him  an  injustice.  Against  that  the 
goodness  of  God  defends  you,  and  commands  you  to 
love  him  ;  thus  securing  for  him  as  much  kindness  as 
possible. 

He  moreover  aims  to  kee^)  you  from  wrong  feeling, 
j^othing  can  exalt  you  but  goodness.  Kevenge  de- 
grades you.  How  noble  did  Themistocles  appear  as 
he  stood  before  Eurybiades  the  Spartan  general,  plead- 
ing against  an  attack  on  the  Persians  !  Tlie  Spartan 
general  was  enraged,  and  lifted  his  hand  to  strike  the 


186  LECTURE    XII. 

ambassador.  "  Strike,"  said  Themistocles,  "  but  hear 
me ! "  When  we  have  no  private  revenge,  we  are 
happy.  And  God  commands  us  to  be  happy  ;  never 
to  be  weary  of  forgiving,  to  forgive  from  the  heart. 

Ai'e  your  sins  great  /  pray  for  forgiveness  in  a  for- 
giving spirit. 


LECTURE  Xm. 

THE  DISHONEST  STEWARD ;  OR,  THE  RIGHT  USE  OF  RICHES. 

LrKE  XVI.  1-9.  "  And  he  said  also  unto  his  disciples,  There  was  a  certain 
rich  man,  which  had  a  steward ;  and  the  same  was  accused  unto  him  that 
he  had  wasted  his  goods.  And  he  called  him,  and  said  unto  him,  How  is 
it  that  I  hear  this  of  thee  ?  give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship  ;  for  thou 
mayst  be  no  longer  steward.  Then  the  steward  said  within  himself,  AVhat 
shall  I  do  ?  for  my  lord  taketh  away  from  me  the  stewardship  :  I  cannot 
dig ;  to  beg  I  am  ashamed.  I  am  resolved  what  to  do,  that,  when  I  am 
put  out  of  the  stewardship,  they  may  receive  me  into  their  houses.  So  he 
called  every  one  of  his  lord's  debtors  unto  him,  and  said  unto  the  first.  How 
much  owest  thou  unto  my  lord  ?  And  he  said,  A  hundred  measures  of  oil. 
And  he  said  unto  him.  Take  thy  bill,  and  sit  down  quickly,  and  write  fifty. 
Then  said  he  to  another,  And  how  much  owest  thou  ?  And  he  said,  A 
hundred  measures  of  wheat.  And  he  said  unto  him.  Take  thy  bill,  and 
write  fourscore.  And  the  lord  commended  the  unjust  steward,  because  he 
had  done  wisely  :  for  the  children  of  this  world  are  in  their  generation 
wiser  than  the  children  of  light.  And  I  say  unto  you,  ]\Iake  to  yourselves 
friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness ;  that,  when  ye  fail,  they  may 
receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations." 

The  preceding  chapter  was  af.dressed  to  the  Phari- 
sees ;  this,  to  the  rich  disciples.  It  takes  a  group  of 
worldlings,  and  shows  them  all  to  be  wise  in  their  way. 
The  lord  was  a  slu'ewd  man,  looking  after  his  affairs, 
and  keeping  his  agents  under  vigilant  control ;  dis- 
missing the  unfaithful ;  commending  the  shrewdness 
of  villainy,  without  very   severe   reprehension.      The 


188  LECTURE   XIII. 

steward  looked  out  for  himself,  for  he  was  wise  in  his 
generation.  Tlie  debtors  fell  in  with  his  cunning  ar- 
rangements, which  helped  their  purses. 

In  the  tombs  of  Egypt  are  found  paintings  repre- 
senting a  steward  taking  account  of  the  grain  brought 
in  by  the  various  servants  or  tenants  of  his  lord.  Such 
a  steward  was  Joseph  in  Potiphar's  house  ;  and  such 
he  had  under  his  control,  afterward,  in  Pharaoh's 
house.  The  conduct  of  one  of  these  officers  is  selected 
by  our  Saviour  to  illustrate  a  point  of  great  importance. 
A  steward  is  accused  to  his  lord  of  improvidence  ;  and, 
perhaps,  dishonestly.  He  is  summoned  to  answer  the 
charge,  and  told  that  he  must  leave  the  service.  With 
this  prospect  before  him,  he  began  to  reflect  how  he 
could  best  provide  for  himself.  And  after  determining 
that  there  were  but  three  courses — labor,  begging,  or 
fraud, — ^he  chose  the  latter.  He  w^ould  not  steal ;  but 
he  would  make  friends  of  the  tenants  and  debtors  of 
his  lord,  by  involving  them  with  him  in  fraud,  to  their 
advantage.  On  this  story  Christ  founded  an  exhor- 
tation in  these  words  :  "  Make  to  yourselves  friends  of 
the  mammon  of  unrighteousness  ;  that  when  ye  fail, 
they  may  receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations." 
Unrighteous  mammon  means  here  uncertain,  deceitful 
wealth  ;  and  the  term  may  have  a  still  profounder  allu- 
sion to  the  fraud  against  Grod  essentially  involved  in 
the  "  love  of  money,"  which  is  idolatry.  By  superficial 
attention  some  have  feared  that  this  parable  partly 
holds  up  dishonesty  as  a  model.  Not  to  perplex  you 
with  men's  various  opinions  of  its  design,  I  would  sim- 
ply state  that  the  audience,  the  connection  and  the 
whole  structure  make  it  clear  that  its  lesson  is  on  the 
real   and   pennanent  good  which   may  arise   from   a 


THE    DISHONEST    STEWARD.  189 

right  use  of  money.  Christ  head  just  defended  himself 
against  the  Pharisees  for  associating  with  publicans. 
Now  he  turns  to  address  the  publicans,  whose  employ- 
ment was  full  of  temptations  ;  and  shows  them  incident- 
ally, that  beginning  to  tamper  with  dishonesty  natm-ally 
leads  on  to  higher  degrees  of  crime  ;  but  mainly,  to 
show  them  and  all  men  that  wealth  could  be  used  for 
immortal  good.  And  he  brings  in  a  dishonest  steward, 
perhaps  because  just  such  a  case  was  generally  known 
to  have  occurred ;  it  might  have  been  in  some  high 
functionary.  He  no  more  designs,  by  introducing  and 
comparing  him  to  a  true  Christian,  to  approve  of  him, 
than  he  intends  to  approve  of  the  unjust  judge,  when 
he  compares  God  as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  to  him.  The 
lord  who  commended  the  unjust  steward  was  not  Christ, 
but  the  steward's  lord.  And  yet  Christ  does  commend 
his  looking  to  the  future  in  his  arrangements  ;  for  he 
adds,  when  men  get  into  dangerous  positions  in  their 
worldly  affairs,  they  set  about  extricating  themselves  ; 
but  when  these  same  men  look  to  eternity  and  the  re- 
sults of  being  cast  out  of  their  stewardship  there,  they 
lose  their  forethought.  "  The  childi-en  of  this  world 
are  in  their  generation  wiser  than  the  children  of 
light."  The  lesson  then  the  parable  lays  before  us 
is,  that 

Riches  Tightly  used  will  confer  on  us  irmnortal  hene- 
fits.  From  no  parable  has  the  Saviour  made  more  in- 
ferences than  from  this.  The  first  is  :  "  make  to  your- 
selves friends,  that  they  may  receive  you  into  everlast- 
ing habitations  ; "  which,  by  a  usage  of  the  Greek  lan- 
guage, is  equivalent  to — "ye  may  be  received  into 
everlasting  habitations."  These  everlasting  habitations 
were  suggested  by  the  welcome  the  steward  was  to  re- 


190  LECTURE  xin. 

ceive  to  tlie  several  mansions  of  those  debtors.  Tliese 
were  temporary  ;  but  those  are  everlasting.  Another 
inference  is  :  "  he  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least, 
is  faithful  also  in  much ;  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the 
least,  is  unjust  also  in  much."  This  is  a  general  prin- 
ciple here  introduced  to  show  that  a  selfish  use  of  riches 
in  this  world  proves  one  unfaithful  to  God,  and  unfit 
for  the  higher  trusts  of  heaven ;  seeming  to  intimate 
that  there,  so  far  from  an  inactive  life,  the  faithful  shall 
be  stewards  of  "  much."  "  If  therefore  ye  have  not 
been  faithful  in  the  unrighteous  mammon,"  if  ye  can- 
not use  mere  worldly  good  well,  "  who  shall  commit  to 
your  trust  the  true  riches  ? "  "  And  if  ye  have  not 
been  faithful  in  that  which  is  another  man's,  who  shall 
give  you  that  which  is  your  own  ? "  Tliis  remark 
strikes  another  deep  vein  of  truth.  Riches  are  not 
ours  ;  neither  palaces,  nor  pictures,  grounds,  garments, 
fleets,  armies,  luxuries  nor  pomps  ;  these  do  not  belong 
to  us.  Some  of  them  belong  directly  to  Satan  ;  and 
the  children  of  light  should  have  nothing  to  do  with 
them.  Some  of  them  are  good  in  themselves  ;  but 
their  owner  is  in  heaven.  He  has  put  them  in  our 
possession  for  a  little  while  ;  to  try  us  and  to  discipline 
us.  If  we  stand  the  trial  well,  then  we  shall  receive 
our  own ;  the  riches  and  honors  and  glory  which  are 
appropriate  to  our  spiritual  and  immortal  nature.  One 
other  inference  is  :  "  No  servant  can  serve  two  masters  ; 
for,  either  he  will  hate  the  one,  and  love  the  other  ;  or 
else  he  will  hold  to  the  one,  and  despise  the  other.  Ye 
cannot  serve  God  and  mammon."  It  is  from  the  de- 
liglit  in  serving  mammon,  instead  of  making  mam- 
mon serve  its  master  and  ours,  that  we  are  found  un- 
faithful to  God. 


THE    DISHONEST    STEWAJRD.  191 

How  then  may  riches  benefit  their  owner  eternally  1 
Directly,  and  indirectly. 

I.  By  making  kiches  a  servant,  and  not  a  master. 

The  struggle  of  our  arch-adversary  to  subdue  us 
through  "  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,"  makes  a  strong 
feature  of  our  probationary  state.  If  we  succumb 
there,  we  are  conquered  for  eternity.  If  we  conquer, 
eternal  laurels  await  our  brows. — ^Tliis  is  then  the  state 
of  the  case. 

1.  Maminon  st/rives  to  Jceep  the  heart  from  God. 
By  mammon  we  understand  him  who  is  called  else- 
where "  the  God  of  this  world  ;  "  here  denominated  by 
a  heathen  name,  equivalent  to  Pluto,  whom  tho  pagans 
made  at  once  god  of  hell  and  god  of  money.  Wealth 
has  a  real  and  great  value,  because  it  can  meet  so  many 
absolute  necessities  of  our  condition,  and  also  gratify 
some  of  the  strongest  passions.  Society  must  own  it ; 
man  must  use  it.  How  much  ?  I^o  rule  is  laid  down. 
This  question  is,  in  fact,  a  constant  test  of  the  heart. 
And  every  one  who  acquires  more  than  sufficient  for 
his  personal  w^nts  is  thrown  on  his  personal  responsi- 
bility to  know  liis  heart,  and  to  keep  it  righteous  before 
the  omniscient.  When  God  is  loved  supremely,  pro- 
perty takes  its  right  place  in  the  affections,  the  judg- 
ment is  soundly  exercised  to  determine  just  what  its 
value  is,  how  much  it  should  be  esteemed,  and  how 
much  confidence  should  be  reposed  in  it  as  the  means 
of  happiness.  When  the  belief  has  entered  the  heart, 
that  gold  is  able  to  confer  happiness  without  the  favor 
of  God,  then  it  has  become  master.  It  has  gained  that 
supreme  confidence  and  esteem  which  belong  to  the 
Most  High ;  and  there,  in  place  of  his  authority  and 


192  LECTURE    XIII. 

commands  will  be  put  those  various  statutes,  ordinances 
and  usages  wliicli  King  Mammon  has  ordained,  from 
time  immemorial,  for  all  those  who  seek  his  favor  and 
depend  on  his  aid.  If  we  conquer  the  foul  spirit  in 
this  struggle  for  ascendency,  we  shall  reap  eternal 
benefits  from  the  victory. 

2.  Property  tends  to  'become  our  viaster  ',  and  so,  to  hin- 
der owr  serving  God.  This  it  does  by  getting  too  strong 
a  hold  upon  the  mind.  To  serve  God  we  must  find  time 
for  calm,  serious,  and  connected  thought.  One  day  in 
seven  the  cares,  perplexities,  j)rojects  and  prospects  of 
business  must  be  dismissed,  and  be  to  us  as  though  they 
were  not.  The  glorious  Being  that  made  us,  his  care 
over  us,  the  wonderful  work  of  redemption,  and  our 
own  interest  in  it,  must  all  occupy  the  mind.  The  day, 
in  fact,  is  lost  to  us  for  the  service  of  our  Maker,  if  we 
tread,  in  our  thoughts,  the  old  track  of  six  days'  busi- 
ness, and  do  not  suifer  God  and  eternal  things  to  come 
in  and  dwell  there.  If  that  day  is  lost  to  that  service, 
then  the  other  six  are  sure  to  be.  And  thus  the  slave 
of  mammon  goes  on,  without  even  thinking  of  the 
claims  of  his  Maker,  and  the  claims  of  his  own  immor- 
tal being.  Tlien,  as  a  matter  of  course,  all  the  other 
powers  of  the  soul  are  withdrawn  from  God.  Surely 
such  a  pursuit  or  such  an  employment  of  money  can 
bring  no  blessings  in  the  world  to  come. 

3.  jProperty  may  he  made  subservient  to  the  growth 
of  piety,  by  disciplining  the  heart  in  the  possession  and 
t(se  of  it.  God  is  pleased  to  have  us  feel  that  no 
amount  of  wealth  can  make  us  independent  of  his 
sovereign  will.  And  when  we  guard  our  hearts  against 
the  feeling  of  security  from  the  possession  of  property, 
making  God  our  trust,  and  his  Word  our  assurance, 


THE   DISHONEST    STEWARD.  193 

then  tlie  possession  has  been  a  trial  resulting  in  onr  im- 
provement. There  is  a  prudence  in  reserving  property 
for  a  future  day  of  want.  But  that  prudence  easily 
degenerates  into  a  feeling  of  idolatrous  confidence, 
which  betrays  itself  in  many  ways.  When  wealth 
increases,  the  idolatrous  heart  becomes  more  forgetful 
of  God  ;  less  fearful  of  his  displeasure,  more  impatient 
of  his  restraints.  If  ever  there  was  thankfulness  for 
his  kindness,  that  thankfulness  is  less  and  less  felt  or 
expressed  as  property  accumulates.  Therefore  we  may 
make  all  om-  personal  expenditures  means  of  om-  own 
spiritual  improvement,  by  referring  them  all  to  God, 
in  this  way.  If  we  acknowledge  Him  as  their  author, 
then  we  will  make  the  whole  system  of  expenditure 
conform  to  his  will,  so  far  as  we  can  ascertain  that  will. 
The  world  and  its  customs  will  not  be  the  standard. 
Our  own  inclinations  will  be  modified  and  controlled 
by  what  appears  to  us  conformed  to  the  great  purpose 
of  our  existence,  and  our  greatest  usefulness  to  our 
fellow  beings.  It  is  not  best  that  every  body  should 
wear  brown  cloth  and  broad-brimmed  hats,  therefore 
we  do  not  adopt  the  Quaker  costume.  It  is  not  best 
for  civilized  beings  to  live  in  wigwams,  therefore  we 
have  better  houses  than  the  savage.  It  is  not  best  to 
pretend  to  be  richer  than  we  are,  therefore  we  suffer 
our  richer  neighbors  to  build,  furnish  and  live  more 
elegantly  than  we.  It  is  not  best  to  make  a  vain  dis- 
play ;  therefore  we  purchase  not  for  display  and  to 
excite  envy,  but  to  surround  ourselves  and  our  friends 
with  what  gratifies  our  natural  and  healthful  tastes.  In 
the  education  of  children  the  same  modification  of  per- 
sonal feeling  and  reference  to  the  Divine  will  is  seen. 
They  are  not  to  be  prepared  foi-  mere  display,  or  trained 
9 


194  LECTUiiK  xirr. 

to  habits  of  indolence  ;  but  every  thing  that  will  de 
velope  their  better  faculties,  and  form  their  characters, 
and  prepare  them  for  true  happiness,  honor  and  useful- 
ness is  expended,  so  far  as  the  other  claims  or  income 
a<hnit.  These  are  specimens  of  the  reasonings  by  which 
Chi'istian  men  of  diiferent  grades  of  wealth  endeavor 
to  regulate  their  expenditures ;  and  whether  they  eat 
or  drink,  or  whatever  they  do,  they  do  it  to  glorify  God. 
Such  expenditure  does  not  hurt,  but  helps  the  soul. 

In  the  same  light  we  may  regard  the  beneficent  use 
of  property.  To  aj^propriate  money  to  the  promotion 
of  religion  in  other  men,  is  a  personal  benefit  to  us. 
And  it  is  so  in  ma»y  ways.  To  esteem  an  object  out 
of  itself  more  than  self,  helps  the  soul  to  mount  up- 
ward. And  that  is  enlightened  self-love  ;  for  it  will 
surely  i-eact  upon  us  most  beneficially  in  this  world, 
and  for  ever  in  the  other.  To  give  to  truth  because  it 
is  truth,  is  to  increase  our  love  of  truth.  To  give  to 
Christ  that  which  might  have  gratified  some  selfish 
desire,  is  to  increase  our  love  of  Christ.  There  is  now 
a  vast  process  of  education  going  on  in  the  Church. 
And  the  people  who  are  taking  the  liveliest  interest  in 
spreading  Christ's  Gospel,  are  receiving  the  greatest 
degree  of  that  benefit.  The  poorest  member  cannot 
afford  to  lose  the  privilege  of  contributing,  for  this  rea- 
son, if  for  no  other.  The  education  of  which  I  speak, 
is,  an  enlarged  and  enlarging  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
all  parts  of  the  earth,  and  every  branch  of  the  human 
race  ;  a  consequent  enlarged  knowledge  of  geography, 
politiccl  and  j)hysical ;  a  knowledge  of  great  moral  en- 
terprises and  changes.  A  new  motive  has  entered  to 
mduce  them  to  take  an  interest  in  the  political  changes 
which  are  going  on  ;  so  that  the  monthly  concert  of 


THE    DISHONEST    STEWARD.  195 

13rayer  is  becoming  a  great  school  to  the  Church.  Biit 
added  to  this  is  a  higher  process  of  education.  Tlie 
enhirgement  and  retining  of  the  sympathies  ;  the  re- 
ligious aiiections  enlisted  in  every  gift  we  make  to  the 
various  and  increasing  means  of  extending  the  kingdom 
of  Christ,  is  a  source  of  personal  benefit,  infinitely 
greater  than  any  which  a  direct  expenditure  on  self 
can  produce. 

But  there  is  another  aspect  of  the  subject.  Property 
may  become  a  source  of  indirect  eternal  benefit  to  its 
owner. 

■  II.  Monkey  can  be  so  expended  est  time,  as  to  meet 
us  with  the  most  blessed  results  in  eternity. 

We  may  look  first  at 

1.  The  iTTvpressions  of  henevolent  expenditure  on  the 
2?ersmis  henefited.  These  are  very  various  in  dififerent 
cases.  Often  we  confer  temporal  favors,  and  get  no 
love  nor  thanks.  At  other  times  we  meet  that  rich 
reward  which  Job  experienced  ;  "  when  the  ear  heard 
me,  then  it  blessed  me.  The  blessing  of  him  that  was 
ready  to  perish,  came  upon  me  ;  and  I  caused  the 
widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  I  was  eyes  to  the  blind  ; 
and  feet  was  I  to  the  lame."  The  difierence  in  the 
results  to  ourselves,  of  benefiting  men  temporarily  and 
spiritually,  will  be  in  the  degree  of  their  gratitude  if 
they  meet  us  in  heaven.  While  Christ  will  be  acknow- 
ledged as  the  only  Redeemer,  there  will  be  ample  scope 
for  the  overflowings  of  gratitude  there  for  that  feeble 
instrumentality  which  man  may  have  employed  for  the 
salvation  of  his  fellow-man.  But  surely,  though  we  can 
do  but  little  in  one  sense,  that  little  may  be  made  by  God 
like  the  smallest  link  in  the  longest  chain  ;  in  itself  of 


196    .  LECTURE   XIII. 

little  worth,  in  its  place,  as  imjDortant  as  the  chain 
itself.  Wonderful  arrangement ;  yet  real  !  "  They 
will  receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations."  One 
will  greet  you  as  you  enter  the  world  of  the  redeemed, 
"  Come  in,  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord ;  long  have  I 
waited  to  tell  thee  what  thou  hast  done  for  me.  I 
was  a  heathen,  perishing  in  the  corruptions  of  my 
heart ;  and  thou  didst  leave  home  and  civilized  life 
to  find  and  rescue  me.  And,  by  the  grace  of  God,  1 
am  here  to  praise  redeeming  mercy,  for  ever.  Words 
will  never  utter  the  gratitude  I  feel  to  God,  and  to 
thee."  Welcomes  like  this  will  indeed  be  "  receiving 
into  everlasting  habitations."  Other  forms  of  benefi- 
cence will  undoubtedly  be  recognized  gratefully  in  that 
blessed  world.  But  as  men  are  sometimes  disposed  to 
think  the  only  real  charity  is  that  which  feeds  and  clothes 
and  comforts  the  body ;  regarding  all  that  is  done  to 
communicate  the  means  of  salvation  to  those  who  do 
not  enjoy  them,  as  fanaticism,  let  us  put  the  two  in  con- 
trast. Not  that  he  so  contrasts  them  who  takes  care  of 
the  immortal  interests  of  others.  To  him  the  temporal 
wants  of  men  have  their  true  relative  importance. 
Suppose,  then,  an  inhabitant  of  heaven  could  say  to 
one  person,  I  remember  with  gratitude  your  kindness. 
Hungry  and  naked  you  found  me,  and  fed  and  clothed 
me  ;  and  thus  diminished  the  sorrows  of  my  lot.  But 
to  another  he  says  :  I  was  pursuing  the  downward  way 
to  perdition  ;  you  sent  to  me  the  word  of  God  ;  which 
but  for  you,  I  should  never  have  seen.  I  read  it,  and 
was  led  by  it  to  the  Saviour  and  to  heaven.  Indebted 
to  both  these  persons,  to  which  will  his  gratitude  be 
^he  greatest  ? 

If  then  this  be  our  Saviour's  meaning  in  the  para- 


THE   DISHONEST   STEWARD.  197 

ble,  wherein  are  the  children  of  this  workl  wiser  in 
their  generation  than  the  children  of  light  ?  The  fact 
he  intended  to  present  in  that  remark  is,  that  in  their 
generation — taking  this  world  as  they  do,  to  be  all  there 
is — they  have  a  more  ready  perception  of  future  good ; 
are  more  prompt  in  their  decisions  as  to  what  is  to  be 
done  ;  and  they  carry  their  resolutions  more  promptly 
and  vigorously  into  action.  This  steward  no  sooner  sees 
himself  on  the  verge  of  absolute  want  than  he  sets  him- 
self to  ward  off  the  evil.  He  determines  what  is  to 
be  done,  and  does  it.  And  acting  on  his  principles,  it 
was  the  best  thing  to  be  done.  And  that  promptness 
of  decision  and  action  generally  characterizes  those 
who  are  taking  care  only  of  their  temporal  welfare. 
But  when  those  same  men  become  convinced  of  the 
realities  of  the  future  state,  what  becomes  of  this 
promptness,  sagacity  and  energy  ?  Not  one  in  a  thou- 
sand seems  to  exercise  it.  It  is  a  fact,  and  a  humil- 
iating fact  for  poor  human  nature.  But  while  we  ac- 
kiiowledge  and  deplore  it,  there  is  something  more  to 
be  done ;  even  on  the  low  grounds  of  a  prudential 
regard  to  our  own  welfare ;  and  the  motive  urged  in 
this  parable  ranges  no  higher  than  that  we  ought  to 
change  our  course.  And,  to-day  an  incitement  should 
come  to  us  from  contemplating  the  eternal  consequen- 
ces of  rightly  employing  our  property,  which  should 
be  felt  by  us  even  to  the  end  of  our  earthly  career. 
We  are  called  here  to  derive,  even  from  the  wicked 
conduct  of  a  man,  an  important  lesson.  It  brings  to 
our  view  a  great  principle  of  the  divine  government ; 
that  the  future  lies  in  the  present.  It  is  not  taught  that 
departed  spirits  can  reward  our  beneficent  actions  to- 
wards them  with  salvation . ;  nor  that  mere  charity  to 


198  LECTURE  xni. 

the  needy  will  entitle  to  it.  But  tliree  principles  are 
here  set  forth.  One  is,  that  the  want  of  charity  will 
shut  us  out  of  heaven.  This  point  the  Saviour  exhibits 
in  the  remarks :  "  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least,  is  unjust 
also  in  much.  And  if  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in 
that  which  is  another  man's,  who  shall  give  you  that 
which  is  your  own  ?  "  We  were  placed  here,  first  to  be 
tried  by  law,  to  see  whether  we  would  love  and  serve 
God  as  our  natural  Lord  and  Master.  To  test  us,  we 
are  variously  entrusted  with  time,  light,  mental  facul- 
ties, and  property.  Now,  our  Master's  will  is  made 
known  to  us,  that  we  should  make  such  use  of  our 
property  as  would  please  Grod  ;  that  is,  advancing  our 
own  real  improvement,  the  interests  of  his  kingdom, 
and  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of  men.  K  we 
prove  ourselves  unfaithful  to  that  trust, — not  answering 
those  intentions,  nor  meeting  those  desires  of  our  Lord, 
then  we  shall  meet  the  doom  of  the  faithless.  "We 
have  proved  ourselves  unfit  to  hold  the  smaller  interests 
of  our  Master  in  our  hands  ;  how  can  he  consistently 
with  justice,  wisdom,  or  benevolence,  put  into  our 
hands  those  vaster  trusts  which  will  belong  to  every 
inhabitant  of  heaven !  We  who  have  not  prudence 
enough  to  take  care  of  our  own  eternal  welfare,  how 
shall  we  be  advanced  to  positions  where  the  happiness 
of  thousands  probably  must  be,  in  a  measure,  commit- 
ted to  us  !  But  none  of  us  can  be  saved  by  the  law  ; 
then  shall  we  be  saved  by  Christ  ?  Tliat  again  he 
refers  to  the  same  test ;  and  you  remember  with  what 
solemnity,  in  his  description  of  the  final  judgment — "  I 
was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat."  We  may 
indeed  give  our  money  to  useful  institutions  and  needy 
persons,  without  being  cleansed  by  the  blood  of  Christ, 


THE    DISHOJSEST    STEWARD.  199 

or  renewed  by  liis  Spirit.  But  if  we  are  cleansed  and 
renewed,  then  it  will  be  seen  in  this,  as  one  of  the  re- 
sults of  regeneration.  "  If  any  man  have  not  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his."  Christ  gave  himself  to 
religion  and  the  poor.  He  consented  to  poverty,  be- 
cause he  could  thus  best  subserve  our  interests.  That 
is  his  spirit.  And  have  we  it  ?  One  answer  is  to  be 
found  in  our  estimate  of  property ;  another,  in  our  use 
of  it.  It  will  show  whether  we  admire  Christ's  benevo- 
lence in  renouncing  for  the  good  of  mankind  all  the 
advantages  and  enjoyments  of  property !  It  will  show 
whether  his  love  constrains  us  to  sustain  his  struggling 
cause  in  the  world.  It  will  show  whether  we  feel  to- 
ward the  poor  as  he  did ;  and  whether  we  have  the 
same  mind  that  was  in  him  in  regard  to  savins:  the 
souls  of  men.  It  will  show  whether  he  or  mammon 
is  our  Master  ;  for  we  cannot  serve  both  ;  and  one  we 
must  serve.  Therefore,  in  the  light  of  a  test  of  the 
character, 'and  a  prophetic  announcement  of  the  des- 
tiny of  each  one  of  us,  this  parable  contains  a  mo- 
mentous truth  for  us. 

It  moreover  opens  a  vision  of  glorious  destiny  to 
them  who  are  laying  up  their  treasures  in  heaven.  To 
the  man  whose  sins  are  forgiven,  and  whose  person  is 
accepted  in  Christ ;  who  is  using  his  property,  be  it 
great  or  small,  for  the  purposes  for  which  God  has 
loaned  it  to  man,  a  future  is  opening  up,  brighter  than 
any  imagination  on  earth  can  conceive.  We  can  now 
crudely  contemplate  the  elements  that  compose  it : 
nothing  more.  It  is  couched  by  our  Saviour  in  these 
words  :  "  That  when  ye  fail,  they  may  receive  you  into 
everlasting  habitations."  There  will  be  four  classes 
<-here  to  welcome  him.     Christ  will  receive  him  into 


200  LECTURE   XIII. 

everlasting  habitations.  Tliis  he  has  stated  in  very 
strong  and  explicit  terms,  and  frequently.  "  Come  ye 
blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom — inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my 
brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me."  "  Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant,"  &c.  Paul  expected  a  crown  of  life 
which  the  righteous  Judge  should  give  him.  "  I  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you, — I  will  receive  you  unto  my- 
self.— In  my  Father's  house  there  are  many  mansions." 
These  mansions  are  everlasting  habitations.  Has  your 
faith  an  eye  that  can  gaze  now  on  the  scene  of  a 
soul  that  has  first  committed  itself  to  Christ,  and 
then  faithfully  followed  him ;  called  to  meet  him  at 
last  in  person  ?  Ushered  into  his  presence,  it  sees 
what  it  has  been  the  most  cherished  desire  of  its 
heart  to  see, — the  God-man  in  the  glory  of  his  king- 
dom, on  the  throne  of  heaven.  And  he  from  that 
throne  comes  down  to  recognize  and  welcome  his  faith- 
ful disciple.  It  was  the  gathering  brightness  of  this 
scene,  as  it  became  more  and  more  distinct,  that  drew 
from  the  grave  and  unimpassioned  Evarts,  the  raptu- 
rous exclamation — "  Glory,  glory,  unspeakable  glory  !  " 
Another  reception  then  awaits  the  redeemed  spirit  from 
the  holy  angels.  Tliey  rejoiced  at  the  mighty  change 
that  brought  it  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ  on  earth, 
l^ow  they  exult  in  its  reception  home.  Bright,  blessed, 
noble  spirits  ;  how  grand  in  stature  and  in  bearing ; 
yet  how  gentle  and  how  kind !  Whom  their  Lord 
loves,  they  love.  His  welcome  insures  theirs.  Wel- 
come, welcome,  they  say,  faithful  steward,  to  these 
everlasting  habitations  !  Then  the  redeemed  are  there ; 
and  they  join  in  the  greetings  of  that  glad  occasion. 
They  know  the  joy  of  that  home  ;  and  they  seem  to 


THE   DISHONEST   STEWARD.  201 

magnify  their  own  share  of  it  by  the  accession  of  every 
new  participant  in  its  blessedness.  There  are  the  names 
we  have  ever  held  in  the  profoundest  reverence  which 
can  properly  be  rendered  to  men.  And  there  are  some 
that  we  held  dearest  and  most  cherished  on  earth. 
They  will  weh^^ome  you  from  a  life  of  fidelity  on  earth 
to  a  life  of  glory  in  heaven.  But  principally  the  text 
seems  to  bring  to  our  view  those  whom  we  may  have 
benefited  in  the  use  of  our  property.  Theirs  will  be 
a  peculiar  welcome.  The  debtors  of  this  lord,  partly 
from  gratitude,  and  partly  to  save  themselves  from  ex- 
posure, but  certainly  with  an  utter  loss  of  respect  for 
his  character,  would  be  compelled  to  do  something  for 
the  support  of  this  steward.  But  here  will  be  un- 
mingled  gratitude,  love  and  respect,  as  they  welcome 
their  benefactor  to  share  that  blessedness  they  enjoy. 
Thus  our  beneficent  employment  of  earthly  good  may 
redound  to  our  everlasting  joy.  And  so  the  highest 
form  of  prudence  is,  by  this  parable,  enlisted  against 
the  meanness  of  covetousness  and  a  selfish  expenditure 
of  property. 

But  let  no  benevolent  man  imagine  he  can  make  a 
Saviour  of  his  charities. 


9* 


PAET  II. 


THE   TREATMENT   THE    GOSPEL    RECEITE8. 


§  1.   Its  Rejection. 

Led.       XIV.  The  Seed  on  the  wayside. 
"  XV.  The  Seed  on  stony  places. 

"  'KVl.  The  Seed  among  thorns. 

"        XVII.  The  Two  Sons. 
"      XVIII.  The  Great  Supper. 
§  2.   Its  Acceptance. 

Lect.       XIX.  The  Seed  in  good  ground. 
"  XX  The  Lost  Son  restored. 


I 


LECTURE  XIV. 

SEED  ON  THE  WAYSIDE ;  OR,  THE  HEEDLESS  HEARER. 

Matt.  xiii.  4  and  19.  "  And  when  he  sowed,  some  seeds  fell  hy  the 
wayside,  and  the  fowls  came  and  devoured  them  up.  When  any  one 
heareth  the  word  of  the  kingdom,  and  understandeth  U  not,  then  cometh 
the  wicked  one,  and  catcheth  away  that  which  was  sown  in  his  heart.  This 
b  he  which  received  seed  by  the  wayside." 

Seed,  to  be  productive,  must  find  a  suitable  soil. 
Yet  it  often  occurs*  to  the  sower  that  some  seed  falls  not 
on  tbe  ploughed  ground,  nor  into  the  mellow  furrow, 
but  on  the  path  that  crosses  the  field.  There  it  is 
either  crushed  bj  the  foot  of  man,  or  seized  by  the 
fowls  of  the  air.  This  path  of  the  field  represents  the 
heart  of  the  man  who  hears  the  Gospel  without  atten- 
tion ;  hearing^  but  not  understanding^  nor  retaining  it ; 
and  therefore  producing  no  fruit  of  righteousness. 

This  part  of  the  parable  is  founded  on  the  principle, 
that  attention  is  the  ji/rst  claim  of  the  Gospel.  The 
Gospel  claims  attention  from  us, 

I.  As  Truth. 

By  a  mental  law,  truth  and  the  mind  can  have  no 
connection  but  through  the  medium  of  attention.    Even 


206  LECTUKE   XIV. 

that  most  spiritual  and  inward  knowledge  which  wo 
receive  through  our  consciousness,  we  obtain  only  by 
attending  to  it.  Much  more  obviously  is  this  true  of 
all  we  learn  by  language. 

A  most  affecting  narrative  may  be  related  to  you, 
which,  if  you  heard  it,  would  move  you  to  tears  ;  and 
yet,  the  mind  being  intent  on  some  other  subject,  not  a 
fact  of  the  whole  story  makes  any  impression  on  the 
feelings ;  or  you  may  read  an  entire  page  of  a  book, 
word  by  word,  and  not  be  able  to  tell  one  idea  it 
contains. 

Let  us  proceed  then  to  notice  more  precisely  the 
laws  under  which  the  Creator  has  placed  this  faculty 
of  the  mind. 

1.  The  attention  is  voluntary.  If  we  give  ourselves 
up  to  waking  dreams,  the  mind  will  be  found  floating 
like  a  billet  of  wood  on  a  river  full  of  eddies,  and  back- 
flowing  currents ;  now  running  swiftly  in  one  direction, 
and  suddenly  rushing  in  another.  To  fix  the  thought 
steadily  in  any  one  direction,  to  meditate  or  study ; 
even  to  see  or  to  hear,  a  purpose  or  intention  is  neces- 
sary.    But  still  farther : 

2.  Attention  is  under  the  law  of  habit.  When  a 
child  commences  to  learn  the  letters  of  the  alphabet, 
he  finds  it  very  difficult  to  discriminate  them,  and  to 
remember  the  difierences  in  their  forms,  names  and 
powers.  But  by  practice  his  attention  becomes  so 
easily  fixed,  that  he  will  at  length  read  for  many  hours, 
without  having  the  slightest  difficulty  in  discrimi- 
nating these  letters.  There  is  consequently  still  an- 
other law : 

3.  An  obligation  rests  on  man  to  exercise  a/nd  im- 
prove this  jpower.     For,  we  know  that  some  of  the  high- 


SEED    ON    THE    WAYSIDE.  207 

est  obligations  of  life  involve  a  right  exercise  of  atten- 
tion. All  intellectual  improvement  involves  it.  All 
moral  im^^rovement  depends  upon  it ;  self-knowledge 
being  essential  to  the  process  of  self-improvement ;  and 
self-knowledge  requiring  much  concentrated  attention 
on  our, own  actions  and  motives. 

The  duties  and  proprieties  of  life  reqmre  a  most 
rigorous  exercise  of  attention.  A  careless  or  heedless 
man  is  not  fit  to  be  a  member  of  a  civilized  community. 
Every  hour,  in  fact  every  moment  of  business  or  of 
social  intercourse,  is  calling  this  power  into  exercise. 

The  discharge  of  every  sacred  trust  calls  for  a  stern 
exercise  of  attention,  as  in  the  case  of  the  surgeon,  the 
physician,  the  teacher,  or  the  pilot. 

The  lowest  ground  then  we  can  take  is,  that  the 
Gospel  at  least  stands  on  a  level  with  other  truth,  and 
claims  man's  attention  as  truth  ;  and  that  the  exercise 
of  attention  is  not  a  thing  optional  with  us,  but  is  in 
the  rank  of  our  highest  obligations  ;  for  the  Word  of 
God  cannot  be  understood  by  the  inattentive.  "  He 
heareth  the  word  of  the  kingdom,  and  understandeth  it 
not."  The  Gospel,  however,  has  a  claim  still  in  ad- 
vance of  that : 

n.  As  A  SYSTEM  OF  TRUTH  HAVING  PECULIAR  DIFFICUL- 
TIES TO  THE  HUMAN  MIND.      For,  it  iucludcS 

1.  Spiritual  facts  as  its  basis  and  its  end.  The  law 
to  which  I  here  refer,  and  which  all  will  recognize  and 
admit,  without  questioning,  is  this  :  that  the  di£Bculties 
presented  by  any  duty  are  only  a  stimulus  to  our 
energies. 

The  diflBculties  of  life  have  been  the  occasion  of 
making  all  the  greatness  the  world  has  ever  witnessed 


208  LECTUKE  xrv. 

in  men.  The  law  of  human  life  is,  that  man  shall  earn 
his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow ;  first,  the  plough- 
ing and  sowing,  then  the  harvest. 

Now  there  are  intrinsic  difficulties  in  the  truths  of 
the  Gospel.  They  do  not  require  extraordinary  degrees 
of  intellectual  power,  which  are  rarely  bestowed ;  but  a 
spiritual  apprehension,  which  it  is  equally  the  privilege 
of  all  to  possess.  God  is  their  chief  theme  ;  most  inti- 
mately present,  and  yet  imperceptible  to  any  of  the 
senses.  Our  soul's  relations  to  him  are  fundamental 
truths  of  the  Gospel ;  but  these  relations  are  spiritual. 
Sin  is  the  spiritual  quality  of  man's  evil  actions  in  God's 
view  ;  and  guilt  includes  man's  unseen,  but  awful  rela- 
tions to  God's  retributive  justice.  Christ  is  now  unseen. 
The  Holy  Spirit  is  unseen  and  unlieard  by  bodily  organs. 
The  judgment-day  is  in  the  future  ;  so  are  heaven's 
glories,  and  hell's  destruction. 

But  all  these  spiritual  topics  meet  the  mind,  with 
its  earthly  tendencies  fully  developed  by  nature  and 
by  habit.  The  spiritual  nature  is  paralyzed.  "  Having 
eyes,  they  see  not ;  having  ears,  they  hear  not."  Hie 
natural  current  of  the  thoughts  is  not  spiritual.  It  is 
difficult  for  our  earthly  sluggish  minds  to  seize  the  pure 
sublime  truths  of  the  Gospel,  so  as  to  receive  from 
them  any  appropriate  and  permanent  impression.  That 
however  only  makes  the  necessity  more  urgent  for  a 
voluntary  control  of  the  attention.  The  Gospel  like- 
wise contains, 

2.  Painful  truths  /  being  a  direct,  unqualified  at- 
tack upon  cherished  desires  and  confirmed  habits.  Tlie 
first  interview  of  the  Bible  with  him  who  takes  it  up 
in  earnest,  is  an  arrest ;  a  trial ;  a  condemnation ;  a 
delivering  over  to  judgment ;  annihilating  self-compla- 


SEED   ON   THE    WAYSIDE.  209 

cency  ;  leaving  t]ie  man  defenceless  at  the  bar  of  divine 
justice  ;  making  liis  life  and  Lis  heart  appear  hideous  ; 
setting  before  him  duties  to  which  he  is  most  adverse. 
Here  lies  a  difficulty  in  securing  attention  to  it.  You 
may  gain  a  ready  attention  to  the  literature  of  the 
Bible  ;  to  its  sublime  descriptions  of  the  Deity  :  to  the 
sweet  invitations  of  mercy  it  contains.  But  all  these 
too  frequently  are  used  by  man,  only  to  conceal  from 
himself  that  which  he  hates  in  the  Gospel. 

While  then  the  painfulness  of  these  truths  is  a  rea- 
son that  explains  his  turning  away  from  just  the  part 
he  most  needs  to  hear,  it  is  also  the  reason  why  he 
should  fix  his  attention  most  earnestly  there.  The  re- 
nunciation of  his  own  righteousness  ;  the  acquiescence 
in  his  condemnation ;  the  voluntary  assumption  of 
Christ's  yoke  and  cross ;  are  the  very  results  in  him 
at  which  the  Gospel  aims,  and  the  very  things  from 
which*  he  shrinks.     We  may  say  again  : 

3.  The  doctrines  of  the  Gosjpel  are  contested  truths. 
And  the  contest,  our  Lord  informs  us,  is  first  begun  by 
another  party  before  man  takes  it  up.  The  fowls,  he 
states,  are  as  really  significant  as  the  seed,  though  sub- 
ordinate as  a  part  of  the  parable ;  and  are  introduced  to 
point  out  the  wicked  one,  the  blighted  angel,  whose 
eminence  remains  the  eminence  of  evil  and  of  shame. 
This  being  is  called  "  a  liar,"  as  he  is  the  arch-enemy 
of  truth  ;  "  the  father  of  lies,"  as  he  originated  the 
process  of  deception,  and  organized  that  intellectual 
antagonism  which  questions,  dilutes,  or  rejects  the  doc- 
trines of  redemption ;  fortifying  it  with  vast  doctrines  of 
philosophy,  which  appear  to  men  wiser  and  profounder 
than  the  doctrines  of  the  Cross.  This  is  the  spirit  of 
the   curious,    subtle  Grecian   intellect,   to  which    the 


210  LECTURE  xrv. 

preaching  of  tbe  Cross  is  foolislmess.  Some  find  insu- 
perable difficulties  in  particular  doctrines.  Others  are 
prejudiced  against  the  principles  for  being  so  much  bet- 
ter than  those  who  profess  to  believe  them.  And  he  has 
taught  another  class  in  his  school  to  look  within  them- 
selves for  illumination.  The  Scriptures  tell  them  things 
of  which  they  have  no  consciousness,  and  which  seem 
to  them  very  improbable  ;  and  which  they  reject,  as 
they  regard  the  sun  within  to  be  a  brighter  light  than 
the  sun  in  the  heavens.  The  great  fact  that  they  are 
sinful  and  ill-deserving,  to  such  a  fearful  extent,  they 
cannot  see  to  be  true  ;  such  an  urgency  in  their  case 
they  cannot  realize,  when  they  are  conscious  only  of 
calmness  and  hope.  And  then  there  is  a  mighty 
wielding  by  this  dread  agent  of  all  the  wounded  sen- 
sibilities of  the  soul,  to  prejudice  it  against  the  Gospel. 
And  to  his  aid  comes  the  power  of  habit ;  the  habit 
of  listlessness  in  one  ;  of  sensuousness  in  another ;  or 
of  walking,  as  the  Scriptures  say,  in  unbelief;  setting 
the  things  that  are  seen  and  temporal,  against  the 
things  that  are  unseen  and  eternal.  There  is  a  habit 
of  gossiping  or  chatting  which  effectually  destroys 
serious  impressions  and  wholesome  thoughts ;  a  rush- 
ing from  sacred  themes  to  worldly  thoughts  and  inter- 
ests, that,  like  the  fowls,  catches  up  what  few  seeds  lie 
on  the  portals  of  the  ear,  half-heard,  half-conceived, 
half-remembered. 

These  difficulties  then  are  the  arguments  which  we 
press  for  securing  a  more  earnest  and  purposed  atten- 
tion to  the  Gospel.  But  this  is  not  all ;  the  Gospel 
claims  a  supremely  earnest  attention — 


BEl'D   ON    THE    WAYSIDE.  211 

III.    As  TKUTH  OF  SUPREME  IMPORTAIJCE. 

1.  It  is  God^s  special  revelation  in  human  language. 
He  has  spoken  in  every  work  of  his  hand,  and  every 
event  of  his  providence  ;  yet  they  could  not  commu- 
nicate all  he  would  say  to  man  in  his  apostate  and 
nelpless  condition.  There  were  feelings  that  he  must 
utter  in-  man's  words ;  there  were  acts  he  must  transmit 
in  a  record  bearing  infallible  marks  of  his  authen- 
tication. There  are  invisible  realities  ;  there  are  com- 
ing events  ;  there  are  principles  of  moral  government ; 
and  above  all,  there  is  a  redemption  which  could  be 
clearly,  fully,  and  credibly  communicated  to  man,  only 
by  a  spoken  or  written  word.  The  Jewish  Scriptures 
claim  to  be  a  portion  of  that  word ;  and  Jesus  Christ 
gave  his  full  sanction  to  this  claim.  The  writings  of 
the  apostles  come  to  us  sanctioned  by  these  clear  cre- 
dentials : 

Christ  chose  them  to  complete  his  message  to 
mankind ; 

They  claimed  to  be  his  messengers  ; 

They  had  supernatural  powers  conferred  upon  them, 
as  a  daily  seal  of  heaven  to  their  veracity  and  com- 
petency ; 

Their  word  is  but  an  expansion  of  the  word  of 
Christ ; 

Their  system  of  doctrine  accords  with  all  the  rest 
of  the  Scriptures ; 

Individuals  in  every  age  have  testified  to  the  divine- 
light,  power  and  life  in  them,  as  they  have  transformed 
their  characters,  purified  their  lives,  and  given  them 
triumph  in  death  ; 

Churches  who  have  lived  by  that  word  have  flour- 


212  LECTURE   XIV. 

islied.  Others  have  decayed  and  sunk  into  spiritual 
death-,  just  as  they  have  departed  from  it ; 

The  history  of  nations  is  a  constant  comment  on  the 
truth  and  power  of  the  Scriptures.  Equity,  industry, 
freedom,  benevolence,  order,  purity,  truth  and  peace, 
follow  in  the  track  of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  come  and 
go,  as  they  more  or  less  control  a  community. 

These  are  some  of  the  marks  the  Scriptures  present, 
of  their  being  the  very  "Word  of  God.  But  if  the  Al- 
mighty has  thus  addressed  man  in  human  language,  in  a 
very  special  manner,  surely  man  is  under  immeasurable 
obligations  to  give  attention  to  that  word.  It  is  God's 
word,  addressed  to  all  men,  and  to  every  man.  Then, 
by  every  thing  sacred  and  decent,  by  every  consider- 
ation of  propriety  and  of  duty,  every  human  being 
should  listen  to  the  Word  of  God.  This  is  a  point  that 
can  scarcely  admit  of  an  argument.  If  any  one  does 
not  see  it  to  be  true  on  the  very  face  of  it,  I  know  not 
how  arguments  will  help  the  matter.  If  a  child  does 
not  see  the  propriety  and  duty  of  giving  a  respect- 
ful attention  when  his  venerable  father  addresses  him, 
no  process  of  reasoning  could  be  of  any  value  in  the 
case. 

And  again  we  are  bound  to  give  such  attention,  be- 
cause the  Scriptures 

2.  Fully  and  strongly  exhibit  ov/r  duties  j  the  chief 
of  which  are  those  we  owe  to  God.  They  make  it  clear 
as  the  noonday,  what  God  requires  of  us.  If  we  intend 
to  obey  him  or  to  please  him  ;  or  if  we  hope  to  receive 
his  blessing,  there  we  learn  the  way.  Unless  a  man  is 
sure  that  he  knows  that  duty  fully  by  some  other 
means,  he  can  be  under  no  stronger  obligation  than 
that  of  giving  earnest  attention  to  the  Scriptures  ;  for, 


SEED   ON    THE   WAYSn)E.  213 

as  all  other  duty  is  sliut  up  in  that  we  owe  to  our 
Maker,  so  all  other  moral  law  is  contained  in  that  of 
the  Scriptures.  Duty,  sacred  duty  is  explained  and 
enforced  here. 

They  also  fully  exhibit  our  duty  to  man.  The 
dis'ine,  unlike  human  law,  goes  into  the  heart,  and 
1  ?gulates  our  feelings  towards  men  ;  and  then  directs 
our  speech  and  actions  towards  them.  Unlike  human 
laws,  it  requires  not  only  a  right  negative,  but  also  a 
right  positive  conduct  toward  man.  Unlike  human 
laws,  it  not  only  shows  u'^  that  we  must  not  injure  man 
in  his  temporal  interests,  but  it  shows  us  how  we  may 
and  should  contribute  to  the  immortal  happiness  of 
others. 

Unlike  all  other  codes  of  morals,  it  shows  the  pos- 
sibility and  the  way  of  deliverance  for  a  sinner.  Thus 
it  is  the  only  directory  to  a  righteousness  that  is  at  once 
feasible  and  sufficient.  There  probably  never  was  such 
a  problem  for  the  universe  to  solve  ;  and  perhaps  will 
never  be  again,  as  this :  How  may  an  ajpostate  soul 
achieve  a  rigJdeousness  which  shall  not  he  too  high  for 
him  to  reach^  nor  too  low  fm^  God  to  accept  f  It  is  the 
grand  question  for  every  created  intelligence  ;  for  it 
has  exhibited  in  its  solution  more  than  any  other  the 
riches  of  divine  wisdom.  K  then  every  man  is  bound 
to  have  such  a  righteousness,  he  is  bound  to  seek  for  it 
most  earnestly,  there  where  alone  it  is  to  be  found. 
And  yet  again : 

3.  God  here  t/reats  of  life  amd  death  eternal.  This 
is  the  sum.  Through  the  whole  Scriptures  God  is  su- 
preme. Then  comes  the  soul  of  man,  represented  as 
Occupying  a  day  of  time's  great  domain,  and  then  en- 
tering on  Eternity,  on  Destiny  of  an  infinite  duration. 


214  LECTURE    XIV. 

Before  tins,  the  success  of  trade,  the  acquisition  of  bril- 
liant accomplishments,  the  longest  life  of  pleasure,  the 
achievement  of  the  most  magnilicent  military  or  literary 
enterpi  ise,  the  grandeur,  pomp,  honor,  wealth,  pleasure 
of  earth  in  the  highest  degree  ever  enjoyed,  or  even  to 
be  enjoyed  by  men ;  yea,  by  all  men  together,  sinks 
into  an  immeasurable,  an  invisible  insignificance.  K 
man's  power  of  attention  was  bestowed  on  him  for  any 
benevolent  purpose,  surely  this  is  the  first ;  if  it  an- 
swers any  valuable  ends,  surely  this  is  among  the  chief. 
If  man  may  proj)erly  be  a  wayside  hearer  in  the  schools 
of  commerce,  or  science,  or  art,  or  philosophy,  surely 
he  may  not  be  in  the  school  of  Chiist.  If  man  may 
sometimes  be  listless  when  man  addresses  him,  surely 
he  cannot  be  when  God  addresses  him  in  regard  to  the 
endless  life  and  the  second  death. 

Inattention  to  the  Gospel  must  then  he  regarded  as  a 
great  calamity.  "  A  calamity,"  I  seem  to  hear  it  re- 
plied— "  a  great  calamity  !  "  Wliy,  I  can  name  five 
hundred  men  in  this  community  ;  substantial  citizens, 
in  good  business,  living  well,  intrusted  with  the  public 
interests,  enjoying  good  health,  happy  in  their  families, 
happy  in  themselves ;  and  yet  they  care  no  more  for 
the  Gospel  than  they  do  for  the  statute  book.  Both 
are  good  in  their  place,  but  not  matters  in  which  they 
have  any  direct  personal  interest.  Now  what  is  meant 
by  calling  their  mode  of  hearing  sermons,  and  treating 
the  Bible,  a  calamity  ?  For  it  is  very  certain  that  this 
description  of  the  inattentive  embraces  just  such  per- 
sons. Yes,  it  does.  And  I  mean  to  say  that  it  is  a 
dreadful  calamity  for  them  to  be  just  such  as  they  are, 
with  all  their  worldly  ease  and  prosperity,  and  good 


SEED    ON    THE    WAYSIDE.  215 

citizenship.  They  are  the  wayside  in  Christ's  great 
field.  Not  a  seed  that  bears  an  immortal  life  ever 
drops  into  their  hearts.  And  this  very  worldly  pros- 
perity, which  so  charms  and  satisfies  you,  which  is  the 
very  goal  of  your  ambition  ;  this  is  the  foot  that  treads 
upon  their  hearts,  day  after  day,  making  them  harder 
and  harder.  It  is  the  calamity  of  a  great  evil,  being  a 
cumulative  growing  evil.  Job  says  :  they  "  are  mighty 
in  power.  Their  seed  is  established  in  their  sight  with 
them,  and  their  offspring  before  their  eyes.  Their 
houses  are  safe  from  fear.  They  send  forth  their  little 
ones  as  a  flock,  and  their  children  dance.  They  spend 
their  days  in  wealth  ;  and  in  a  moment  go  down  to  the 
grave.  Therefore  they  say  unto  God  :  depart  from  us ; 
for  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways.  What 
is  the  Almighty,  that  we  should  serve  him  ?  and  what 
profit  should  we  have,  if  we  pray  to  him  ? "  Asaph 
says  :  "  their  strength  is  firm  ;  they  are  not  in  trouble 
as  other  men.  Therefore  pride  compasseth  them  about 
as  a  chain.  As  a  dream  when  one  awaketh,  so,  O 
Lord,  thou  shalt  despise  their  image." 

It  is  a  calamitous  thing  to  be  in  such  a  state,  that 
Christ  could  find  no  better  emblem  for  them  than  the 
beaten  path  in  the  plough  field. 

The  habitual  state  of  such  a  person  is  deplorable, 
whether  you  look  at  the  condition  of  the  heart,  or  the 
influence  to  which  it  is  subject.  It  betrays  a  profound- 
ness of  ignorance  which  leaves  the  soul  in  practical 
heathenism.  There  is  no  clear  recognition  of  any 
spiritual  existence ;  God,  the  soul,  nor  our  relations  to 
God.  Such  persons  are  no  farther  advanced  toward 
God  than  pagans  are.  There  is  a  deplorable  insensi- 
bility to  the  evil  of  sin,  to  the  guilt  it  contracts,  to  the 


216  LECTURE    XIV. 

grace  of  Christ.  And  if  the  person  has  arrived  at  the  m»- 
tm-ity  of  his  faculties,  it  has  been,  by  a  process  which  has 
laid  waste  the  soil  of  the  soul ;  taking  out  as  by  a  fire 
or  the  overflowing  of  the  sea,  all  its  iinest  fructifying 
powers,  leaving  it  a  marshy  waste.  It  betrays  a  life 
wasted  in  vanity  ;  either  dissipation  and  disorder,  or  the 
gravity  and  decency  of  a  regular  business-life  spent 
without  God,  and  in  utter  disregard  of  every  obligation 
to  him.  It  is  life  spent  under  the  control  of  him  whose 
policy  Christ  has  here  described  ;  who  takes  away  the 
truth  out  of  their  hearts,  "  lest  they  should  believe,  and 
be  saved." 

If  you  would  appreciate  the  calamity  which  has  be- 
fallen this  man,  see  him  approach  the  Bible.  Every 
avenue  by  which  its  inestimable  truths  might  enter,  to 
save  him,  is  closed.  There  is  in  him  pride  of  wisdom  ; 
for  he  already  knows  all  that  it  can  teach  him.  There 
is  in  him  pride  of  character  ;  for  he  is  not  going  to  be 
classed  with  the  chief  of  sinners.  If  any  thing  is  there 
said  about  the  good,  he  will  look  at  that  as  a  mirror  to 
help  him  take  a  pleasaftt  survey  of  his  own  beautiful 
figure.  There  is  in  him  the  love  of  present  comfort. 
He  is  not  going  to  have  his  quiet  disturbed  by  vain 
fancies  about  depravity  and  eternal  death.  He  is  not 
going  to  be  driven  to  cling  to  Christ,  as  a  drowning 
man  clings  to  a  rope.  Now  how  piteous  is  that  man's 
state  !  He  has  a  Bible  ;  but  it  is  spiritually  a  sealed 
book.  It  is  all  written  in  strange  characters.  It  is  the 
voice  of  God,  but  he  cannot  hear  it ;  it  is  the  guide  to 
heaven,  but  he  cannot  see  it. 

See  him  in  praise  !  God  is  not  his  object.  See  him 
in  prayer  !  It  is  not  addressed  to  God.  See  him  amid 
God's  works.     He  cannot  commune  with  their  Maker, 


SEED   ON  THE   WAYSIDE.  217 

and  his  ;  for  there  is  an  unsettled  controversy  between 
them.  Whoever  does  not  love  God  in  his  word,  has  no 
real  love  for  him  in  nature.  See  him  coming  to  the  house 
of  God.  The  sower  has  the  seed  of  heaven  in  his  hands. 
But  alas  !  that  man's  heart  is  the  wayside.  Worldly 
thoughts  have  been  treading  out  every  religious  feeling, 
from  the  hour  of  his  awaking  until  he  entered  the  sanc- 
tuary. The  law  shines  forth  in  its  purity ;  but  it  pro- 
duces no  conviction  in  him.  God  threatens ;  but  he 
has  no  fear.  Perdition  glares  upon  him  ;  but  it  causes 
him  no  anxiety.  Christ  hangs  bleeding  on  the  cross 
before  him ;  but  this  awakes  no  penitence.  Christ  is 
seen  on  his  throne  ;  but  this  creates  in  him  neither  love 
nor  confidence.  That  heart  has  been,  during  its  entire 
life,  a  trodden  path,  over  which  is  written :  Free  passage 
this  toay  for  every  thing  hut  Christ.  Yes,  it  is  a  ca- 
lamity the  more  dreadful,  because  it  is  the  man's 
chosen  state. 


to 


LECTUEE  XV. 

SEED  ON  STONY  PLACES  ;  OE,  THE  COWAKDLT  HEAEEE. 

Matt.  xiii.  5,  6 ;  20,  21.  "  Some  fell  upon  stony  places,  where  they 
had  not  much  earth  :  and  forthwith  they  spning  up,  because  they  had  nc 
deepness  of  earth  ;  and  when  the  sun  was  up,  they  were  scorched ;  ana 
because  they  had  no  root,  they  withered  away."  "  But  he  that  received 
the  seed  into  stony  places,  the  same  is  he  that  heareth  the  word,  and  anon 
with  joy  receiveth  it ;  yet  hath  he  not  root  in  himself,  but  dureth  for  a  while : 
for  when  tribulation  or  persecution  ariseth  because  of  the  word,  by  and  by 
he  is  offended." 

We  have  contem23lated  the  case  of  him  who  hears 
the  word,  from  either  custom,  a  vague  sentiment  of 
duty,  or  some  other  motive  equally  tending  to  make  it 
inelFectual.  The  case  to  which  we  now  come  is  differ- 
ent in  the  process,  though  arriving  at  the  same  fatal 
issue. 

The  seed  that  is  to  form  a  strong  healthful  stalk,  re- 
quires in  the  soil  not  only  the  proper  fertilizing  quali- 
ties, but  also  sufficient  depth  to  give  it  firmness,  by 
both  the  tenacity  of  the  root,  and  the  quantity  of 
nourishment  it  may  supply.  But  many  a  piece  of 
ground  that  has  all  the  other  requisites  for  fertility,  is 
rendered  useless  to  the  tiller  by  its  want  of  depth. 
The  deep,  broad,  solid  rock  underlying,  unmoistened 


8EED   ON    STONY   PLACES.  219 

by  the  dews  of  lieaven,  unpenetrated  by  the  genial 
rains,  unbroken  by  the  plough,  meets  the  tender  root 
shooting  downward  through  a  wondrous  instinct.  And 
in  fact  this  very  proximity  of  the  rock  to  the  surface 
may  tend  to  facilitate  the  first  sprouting  of  the  seed, 
by  increasing  the  warmth  of  the  soil.  But  when  the 
sun  begins  to  return  northward  from  his  southern  de- 
clination, and  again  approaches  the  equator,  his  torrid 
beams  become  too  strong  for  the  partially  nourished 
plant,  and  it  withers  away. 

This  plant  is  the  emblem  Christ  has  chosen  to  point 
out  a  character  but  too  common  in  the  world-;  a  case 
to  which  all  men  have  a  tendency,  and  against  which 
the  most  definite  warnings  should  be  pronounced.  It 
has  two  aspects  ;  both  of  which  need  explanation.  The 
one  of  its  early  promise  ;  and  the  other,  its  early  failure. 
It  springs  up  "  forthwith,  because  it  had  no  deepness 
of  earth  ; "  and  as  soon  as  the  sun  is  up,  it  is  scorched, 
and  withers  away.  Or,  to  drop  the  figure — a  man 
hears  the  word,  receives  it  anon  with  joy.  But  he  en- 
dureth  only  for  a  while.  For,  presently  some  difiiculty 
arises  in  carrying  out  his  new  principles,  and  he  stum- 
bles and  falls.  Here  is  a  case  of  great  promise  in  the 
commencement.  The  man  is  full  of  joy  ;  he  thinks  he 
has  found  an  inestimable  treasure,  has  entered  on  a 
new  life,  tasted  new  joys,  indulged  new  hopes ;  and 
others  share  his  delightful  anticipations.  He  "  springs 
up  ;  "  he  has  manifestly  become  a  religious  man.  But 
there  is,  alas !  more  stem  than  root,  more  show  than 
substance.  Had  this  seed  struck  its  roots  deep  into  the 
soil,  it  might  have  continued  to  drink  the  ge'neroue 
moisture,  and  thus  to  slake  the  thirst  of  its  parched 
top.     But  there  is  no  depth,  and  no  moisture  :  so  it 


220  LECTUKE   XV. 

must  sicken  and  die.  The  ricli  coloring  gives  place  to 
tlie  pale  yellow ;  it  wilts,  withers,  dies  and  rots,  while 
the  rest  of  the  field  is  green  and  growing.  Often  do 
men  begin  to  manifest  a  supreme  interest  in  religious 
truth,  and  in  the  service  of  God ;  and  yet  ultimately 
are  found  to  swerve  from  that  service,  and  go  back  to 
various  degrees  of  worldliness.  This  parable  indeed 
describes  two  such  cases,  one  of  which  is  now  before 
us  ;  and  we  are  induced  to  inquire  how  it  shall  be  ac- 
counted for.  The  solution  is  found  in  the  want  of  moral 
courage.  Our  Lord  says  that  when  tribulation  or  per- 
secution arises,  because  of  the  word,  straightway  he  is 
ofiended,  or  stumbles.  This  then  accovmts  for  both 
stages  of  the  case  ;  the  prompt  commencement  of  an 
apparently  religious  life,  and  the  equally  prompt  ter- 
mination of  it. 

We  should  here  take  a  distinct  view  of  the  nature 
of  courage.  The  common  notion  of  it  is,  indifference 
to  danger.  But  that  does  not  distinguish  this  noble 
principle  from  rashness.  It  properly  refers  to  that 
quality  of  mind  by  which  the  higher  sentiments  over- 
rule the  dread  of  suffering.  These  sentiments  are  such 
as  patriotism,  philanthropy,  integrity,  sense  of  duty, 
and  sense  of  right.  The  opposite  state  of  mind  is  that 
which  places  the  escaping  from  suffering  above  every 
other  consideration.  And  it  is  a  j)erson  governed  by 
that  principle  that  is  pointed  out  by  this  part  of  the 
parable.  The  want  of  moral  courage,  or  courage  in  its 
higher  form,  makes  a  man  partially  enter  the  service 
of  Christ,  and  ultimately  desert  it.  He  comes  easily 
into  it,  and  goes  out  as  readily  ;  because  he  is  seeking, 
not  holiness,  but  comfort  and  safety.  His  piety  must 
therefore  be  both  superficial  and  transient.     Tliis  habit 


SEED   ON    STONY    PLACES.  221 

of  placing  comfort  before  goodness  equally  facilitates 
the  beginning  and  the  ending  of  his  religious  life  ;  for, 

I.  It  peevents  hem  fkom  even  undekstanding  the 

THEORY  OF    THE  GoSPEL,  AND  MUCH  MOKE  FROM  TRULY  AC- 
CEPTING ITS  PROVISIONS. 

Imagine  a  person  awakened  by  the  law  of  God  to 
an  apprehension  of  danger ;  of  guilt  in  his  sight,  and 
consequent  exposure  to  the  divine  wrath.  K  he  would 
regard  the  testimony  of  God,  he  would  find  more  in 
his  case  than  the  exposure  to  suflTering.  But  such  is 
the  operation  of  selfishness  in  the  human  heart,  that 
often  where  this  sense  of  danger  is  irresistibly  urged 
home,  there  is  still  such  a  magnifying  of  suftering  as 
the  great  evil,  that  the  attention  shall  be  fully  absorbed 
by  that.     The  first  consequence  is — 

1.  He  neither  sees  that  Christ  comes  to  save  hiinfrom 
sin  /  nor^  that  he  is  a  sinner.  There  is  a  natural 
evil  which  is  the  consequence  of  sin.  But  sin  is  itself 
the  great  evil.  This  person,  however,  shrinks  from  the 
pain  of  knowing  his  own  vile  heart.  He  is  aware  of 
some  kind  of  danger ;  but  it  is  a  danger  not  clearly 
defined.  Some  dreadful  sufiiering  awaits  him  after 
death  ;  and  so  vivid  is  his  sense  of  it,  that  he  must 
escape  it  at  any  cost.  Under  this  vague  apprehension 
of  evil  he  turns  to  the  Gospel.  He  has  not  learned, 
though  it  has  been  often  j)laced  before  his  mind,  that 
there  is  an  infinitely  greater  evil  than  sufi'ering.  He 
knows  nothing  of  this  evil,  and,  of  course,  is  not  seek- 
ing deliverance  from  it ;  and  therefore  he  does  not  per- 
ceive what  the  salvation  of  the  Gospel  is.  Such  is  his 
aversion  to  sufi'ering  that  he  will  not  believe  that  the 
Gospel,  which  is  glad  tidings,  the  ofier  of  salvation,  the 


222  LECTURE    XV. 

word  of  mercj,  is  itself  the  cause  of  tliis  pain  be  feels  ; 
miicli  less  that  it  seeks  to  sink  its  arrow  still  deeper  into 
his  wounded  spirit.  Here  he  makes  the  first  misstep. 
He  dares  not  let  the  Bible  speak  to  him,  unmuffled. 
Here  be  begins  to  trifle  with  truth,  to  compromise  with 
conscience.  John,  in  vision,  found  the  book  of  God's 
providence  sweet  to  the  taste  when  he  first  opened  it, 
because  it  gratified  his  curiosity  to  know  the  future. 
But  it  was  bitterness  within  him,  after  he  had  eaten  it ; 
for  it  opened  such  painful  scenes  to  his  view.  The  re- 
verse is  the  case  with  the  book  of  grace.  Its  bitterness 
is  in  eating  ;  its  sweetness  in  digesting.  Tlie  Bible  has 
but  one  testimony  concerning  the  human  heart.  Men 
may  dilute  or  deny  it ;  but  there  remains  the  testimony 
of  him  who  searches  the  heart ;  "  it  is  desperately 
wicked."  When  the  Comforter  comes  to  represent  the 
departed  Saviour,  he  takes  up  his  work,  and  convinces 
men  of  sin.  When  Christ  invited  men,  he  invited 
them  under  some  view  of  their  painful  necessities ; 
hungry,  thirsty,  weary,  weeping,  imprisoned,  blind, 
poor,  naked,  leprous,  poisoned,  dead.  When  the  Gos- 
pel was  first  preached  after  the  ascension,  men  were 
pricked  in  their  hearts  as  though  an  arrow  of  God  had 
pierced  them.  Christ  told  men  to  agonize  to  enter  in 
at  the  narrow  gate.  Tliis  view  of  the  condition  of  the 
heart  is  exceedingly  painful.  And  he  that  has  settled 
it  as  a  controlling  principle,  that  he  must  not  be  made 
to  suffer  even  in  saving  his  soul,  will  shrink  from 
this  light,  and  turn  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  Christ 
is  a  merciful  Saviour ;  the  Gospel  is  glad  tidings ; 
Christ  invites  every  one  to  come  to  him ;  and  to 
those  who  come,  he  has  given  exceeding  great  and 
precious  promises.    But  he  will  not  j^erceive  that  there 


sep;d  on  stony  tlaces.  223 

are  two  ways  of  coming  to  Christ.  "  Ye  seek  me," 
said  he  to  some,  "  because  ye  did  eat  of  the  loaves,  and 
were  filled."  Some,  too,  followed  him  as  a  political 
leader.  But  those  persons  did  not  long  find  him  to  their 
taste.  They  found  some  of  his  sayings  hard,  and  there- 
fore turned  back.  It  is  this  cowardly  fear  of  knowing 
ourselves  that  makes  many  come  to  Christ  with  half 
their  heart.  And  all  the  joy  they  get  being  founded 
in  misapprehension  of  themselves  and  of  him,  must 
wither,  for  it  has  no  deepness  of  earth,  no  strength  of 
root. 

2.  He  TTiisajpjpreliends  the  atonement^  or  the  ground  of 
Christ^ s  death.  Tliis  must  make  a  superficial  Christian. 
I  will  not  affirm  that  there  have  not  been  solid  Chris- 
tians who  did  not  take  our  view  of  the  governmental 
nature  of  Christ's  sacrifice.  But  I  will  affirm  that  it  is 
necessary  to  believe  in  the  substitutional  or  vicarious 
character  of  Christ's  death.  That  is  the  full,  glorious 
teaching  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments.  That 
is  the  faith  with  which  Abel  began,  which  David  and 
Isaiah  proclaimed  ;  whicli  John  the  forerunner,  Christ 
and  the  Apostles  made  prominent  in  their  preaching. 
And  it  is  by  the  power  of  sympathy  with  him  as  sufier- 
ing  in  our  stead,  that  we  get  the  inspiration  of  that 
true  courage  which  reconciles  us  to  rejoice  when  we 
are  counted  worthy  to  sufier  for  his  name's  sake.  But 
the  admission  of  this  fact  that  Christ  died  in  our  stead, 
opens  the  floodgates  of  anguish  in  the  spirit  that  first 
really  perceives  it.  There  is  the  coming  down  of  pride ; 
there  is  the  opening  up  to  view  of  the  depth  of  our 
ruin,  the  immensity,  the  immeasurableness  of  our  guilt. 
But  the  soul  that  has  been  gained  for  comfort,  and  that 
regards  suffering  as  the  great  evil,  will  never  open  its 


224:  LECTURE    XV. 

eyes  on  the  grandeur,  tlie  awfulness,  the  blessedness  of 
ihat  cardinal  fact,  nor  come  under  its  transforming 
power, 

3.  He  fails  also  to  see  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit^ 
and  his  own  absolute  dependence  on  that  Spirit  for  re- 
newal and  sanctification.  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of 
water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  God."  But  that  opens  another  painful  view  of 
his  case.  Here  is  the  need  of  so  radical  a  change  that 
only  the  Omnipotent  can  accomplish  it ;  and  He  too  is 
sovereign  in  his  operations.  It  is  not  in  human  nature 
to  believe  that  without  the  deepest  distress,  until  the 
heart  has  come  to  trust  in  God.  Now  I  know  there  are 
persons  who  become,  as  they  suppose,  religious  without 
being  disturbed  by  these  facts,  or  even  believing  them. 
Yet  these  remain  facts  ;  facts  which  Christ  and  his 
apostles  made  prominent  in  their  preaching.  And 
that  they  are  not  believed,  only  proves  that  they  are 
distm-bing  and  distressing  to  the  unhumbled  heart  of 
man.  No  man  would  have  quarrelled  with  these  doc- 
trines, or  have  taken  the  pains  to  prove  in  the  face  of 
the  plainest  language,  that  they  are  not  taught  in  the 
Scriptures,  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  tremendous 
power  in  breaking  up  that  false  peace  which  those  are 
determined  to  maintain,  who  love  comfort  more  than 
the  favor  of  God. 

"With  this  description  it  is  easy  to  conceive  how  a 
person  whose  great  want  is,  not  deliverance  from  his 
own  evil  heart,  but  from  fear  and  an  undefinable  future 
evil,  may  find  in  the  Gospel  only  love,  expressing  itself 
in  all  the  beauty  of  an  exquisite  style ;  a  Saviour  full 
of  compassion,  inviting  all  to  come  to  him  ;  promising 
to  save  them.     He  regards  the  salvation  of  the  Gospel 


SEED    ON    STONY    PLACES.  225 

as  a  salvation  from  suiFering ;  and  hence  lie  receives 
the  word  "  with  joy."  Sometimes  this  joy  is  tranquil ; 
it  has  been  known  to  amount  to  rapture. 

Having  tlms  overlooked  the  very  nature  and  essence 
of  the  Gospel,  his  repentance  is  superficial ;  because 
repentance  is  not  mourning  for  suffering,  present  or 
future,  endured  or  merited ;  it  is  heart-sorrow  for  sin  ; 
sin  as  committed  ;  sin  as  filling  the  life ;  sin  as  com- 
mitted against  an  infinitely  holy  Being ;  sin  as  the 
enemy  of  God,  of  righteousness,  of  truth,  of  love,  of 
loveliness,  of  ha]3piness ;  sin  as  defiling,  degrading, 
corrupting  and  ruining  the  soul.  And  he  there- 
fore who  has  looked  at  his  danger  alone,  who  has 
learned  to  dread  only  that ;  or,  he  who  has  determined 
to  find  in  the  Gospel  only  a  better  description  of  virtue, 
and  in  Christ  only  a  purer  example  of  it,  cannot  go 
very  deep  in  the  work  of  humiliation,  godly  son-ow, 
dying  with  Christ,  and  being  buried  with  him.  There 
lies  in  that  heart  the  deep,  dead,  broad  rock  of  impeni- 
tence and  pride.  Into  its  compact  substance  no  root 
of  conviction,  of  repentance,  of  faith,  of  love,  ever 
penetrated.  That  man  is  still  seeking  happiness,  not 
holiness.  He  has  no  opposition  to  his  own  heart.  All 
is  right  there,  he  thinks.  He  has  no  opposition  to  the 
spirit  of  the  world ;  for  it  is  j)recisely  his  own.  Its 
maxims  might  be  reduced  to  two  :  avoid  suffering,  and 
especially  in  regard  to  your  eternal  welfare  ;  get  com- 
fort as  you  go  along.  And  that  is  just  what  he  is  doing. 
He  cannot  know  nor  appreciate  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
]S"or  can  he  serve  him  ;  for  he  is  in  the  friendship  of 
the  world,  against  which  Christ  cautions  us:  "What 
man  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth  not  down  first, 
and  counteth  the  cost  ?  "  And  this  he  said  after  insist- 
10* 


226  LECTURE   XV. 

ing  on  the  solf-denjing  character  of  his  service.  But 
this  person  has  no  costs  to  count.  It  is  not  going  to  be 
a  costly  service.  The  very  thing  he  has  bargained  for, 
is,  an  easy  service.  Christ  gives  peace  ;  and  it  is  peace 
he  wants,  and  not  trouble.  He  can  accordingly  sail  in 
smooth  seas,  and  live  well  in  fair  weather  with  his  re- 
ligion.    But, 

II.  He  CAJsr  do  no  better  with  the  practice  of  thb 
Gospel  than  with  its  theory  ;  for, 

1.  It  requires  him  to  struggle  with  sin  in  his  own 
heart.  The  work  to  which  Christ  calls  us  is  a  pro- 
gressive conquest  over  spiritual  evils  in  ourselves. 
Native  dispositions,  strengthened  by  habit,  have  an 
ascendency  over  the  will,  which  must  be  entirely 
destroyed.  This  is,  at  times,  a  very  painful ;  sometimes 
almost  a  discouraging  work.  God  allows  a  regenerated 
soul  to  know  more,  a  hundredfold,  of  the  evil  nature 
of  sin,  than  he  knew  before  his  conversion.  Perhaps 
some  are  spared  this  view.  But  I  apprehend  that  every 
one  who  reaches  heaven's  golden  gates,  reaches  them 
a  conqueror  ;  and  his  greatest  conquest  is  over  himself. 
The  body  is  to  be  conquered  ;  and  the  evils  that  reside 
in  the  spirit  are  to  be  conquered.  This  is  what  Christ 
intended  to  inculcate  by  his  strong  language  about 
self-denial,  and  the  daily  bearing  of  the  cross.  "I 
keep  my  body  under,"  said  Paul,  "  lest,  after  preaching 
to  others,  I  myself  should  be  a  cast-away."  Some  of 
the  evil  dispositions  are  exceedingly  subtle,  long  avoid- 
ing the  most  vigilant  observation.  Yes,  I  venture  .to 
affirm,  that  the  more  intimately  we  enter  into  God's 
holy  communion,  the  more  do  the  asperities  and  obli- 


SEEP    ON    STONY    PLACES.  227 

quities  of  our  dispositions  manifest  themselves  to  the 
awakened  conscience. 

Now  it  is  in  part  this  feature  of  Gospel  service  that 
weans  the  superficial  religionist  from  Christ,  and  pre- 
pares him  for  an  open  rupture  under  any  outward 
pressure.  The  early  joy  lias  passed  away.  Such  a 
hope  of  pardon  as  at  first  cheered  him,  cannot  long 
amuse.  His  religion  does  not  consist  in  really  preparing 
for  heaven.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  his  heart,  the 
cross,  the  mercy-seat,  the  promises  of  God,  eternity,  or 
the  great  work  that  Christ  has  given  his  disciples  to  do 
in  the  world.  It  has  no  vitality,  no  power,  no  Saviour. 
It  is  a  very  dull  afi'air  ;  and  he  is  quite  tired  of  it.  It 
was  not  religion  from  the  beginning  ;  it  was  too  super- 
ficial, too  earthly,  too  selfish,  too  cowardly,  even  to 
have  been  called  that.  It  was  a  soldier  bargaining 
with  his  captain,  that  the  bullets  should  not  be  permit- 
ted to  come  very  near  him  ;  for,  as  he  had  enlisted  for 
a  comfortable  warfare,  he  could  not  go  very  far  amid 
such  dangerous  things,  l^ow  follow  him  to  the  next 
stage : 

2.  ITis  conflict  with  the  world.  Men  of  superficial 
religion  are  generally  very  much  perplexed  to  know 
what  the  Scriptures  mean  by  "  the  world,"  against 
which  they  speak  so  severely.  "  If,"  they  say,  "  you 
are  to  understand  by  it — vicious  persons,  in  distinction 
from  upright  people ;  very  vulgar,  from  the  refined ; 
very  irreligious,  from  the  sober  kind — then  it  has  a  sub- 
stantial foundation  in  reality.  But  if  it  means  to  dis- 
tinguish the  people  who  do  not  profess  to  have  had  a 
change  of  heart,  radical  and  permanent,  from  those 
that  make  such  a  profession,  then  it  is  an  unmeaning 
distinction ;    and  the  epithet   is  badly  chosen.      Men 


228  LECTURE   XV. 

inside  tlie  Churcli  are  just  as  worldly  as  tlios^  outside 
"  "Why,"  says  this  person,  "  I  can  find  in  the  circle  of 
my  acquaintance  a  hundred  sensible,  well-bred  persons, 
of  the  most  sterling  integrity,  amiable,  benevolent,  rea- 
sonable, not  irreligious  ;  will  you  call  them  the  world, 
and  denounce  God's  vengeance  on  them  ?  I  cannot 
conceive  what  conflict  I  am  to  have  with  them.  Such 
language  always  appear  to  me  sheer  extravagance," 

The  answer  to  all  this  is  :  your  difficulty  lies  here  ; 
you  are  in.  the  world,  and  of  it.  You  are  in  the  cabin 
of  a  ship,  sailing  down  the  stream  ;  and  when  you  are 
told  that  you  are  moving  along,  and  leaving  every 
thing  stationary,  you  reply,  "  No,  I  find  every  thing 
stationary  here  ;  I  am  conscious  of  no  movement." 
Every  thing  around  you  moves  so  precisely  with  you, 
that  motion  is  unperceived.  "  The  world,  will  love  its 
own,"  the  Saviour  says. 

If  then  you  have  lived  thus  far,  and  not  found  that 
Christ  and  Satan  have  two  rival  kingdoms  in  the  world ; 
and  that  Satan  is  far  from  being  contented  to  have  only 
the  vulgar  and  irreligious,  I  would  ask  you  to  turn 
your  attention  to  a  few  statements. 

God  declares  there  is  such  an  interest  as  the  world 
in  direct  and  deadly  antagonism  to  his  holy  kingdom. 
Christ  came  into  the  world  ;  the  world  was  made  by 
him  ;  and  yet  it  did  not  know  him.  "  The  world  hateth 
me."  The  world  cannot  receive  the  Holy  Spirit.  "  Ye 
are  not  of  the  world  /  if  ye  were,  the  world  would  love 
its  own.  Tiie  ivorld  shall  rejoice,  but  ye  shall  have 
tribulation.  The  world  is  crucified  to  me  ;  and  I  am 
crucified  to  it.  Tlie  friendshij)  of  the  world  is  enmity 
with  God.  Love  not  the  world.''''  Surely,  then,  there 
is  such  an  interest  in  direct  hostility  to  the  kingdom  of 


SEED   ON    STONY   PLACES.  22S 

oar  blessed  Lord.  It  crucified  Christ,  persecuted  and 
destroyed  tlie  disciples.  Tliis  is  the  world,  from  which 
God  requires  his  children  to  come  out  and  separate 
themselves. 

But,  moreover,  this  world  is  separated  from  Christ's 
kingdom  by  a  very  different  line  than  that  already  de- 
scribed. It  is  not  vulgarity  that  makes  the  world. 
Some  of  the  most  refined  in  Jerusalem  were  Christ's 
murderous  enemies.  It  is  not  poverty  nor  obscurity ; 
for  the  leaders  in  society  secured  his  death.  It  is  not 
immorality,  for  Dives  is  not  accused  of  that ;  and  the 
rich  young  ruler  who  preferred  the  world  to  Christ, 
was  very  upright.  No  ;  the  line  is  drawn  here.  Thoge 
that  see  no  great  evil  in  their  disobedience  to  God,  and 
in  their  own  hearts  ;  and  who  consequently  place  Christ, 
his  Gospel,  his  redemption  and  his  assistance  on  a  level 
with  other  good  institutions  and  influences,  but  no 
higher ;  they  are  of  the  world.  And  if  the  analysis 
be  pursued  one  step  farther,  it  comes  to  this  :  they  who 
dread  suffering  more  than  an  evil  heart,  are  of  the 
world.  They  have  long  ago  determined  that  religion 
shall  not  disturb  them  ;  it  may  comfort  them  if  it  can ; 
but,  disturb  them,  it  shall  not.  That  is  worldliness. 
It  betrays  the  radical  spirit  of  unbelief  in  the  testimony 
of  God,  and  in  the  Cross  of  Christ.  Such  persons  hate 
the  self-denial  of  a  spiritual  life  ;  they  find  not  their 
consolation  and  hope  in  Christ.  They  know  nothing 
of  fervent  love  and  gratitude  to  him.  They  are  not 
very  apt  to  be  conversant  with  the  Scriptures. 

ISTow  this  is  the  world  that  sifts  the  Chm-ch,  and 
tries  the  genuineness  of  its  members  ;  and  often,  rather 
ungenerously  despises  them,  after  enticing  them  from 
their  apparent  devotion  to  Christ.     "  What  ?  "  you  in- 


230  LECTUKE   XV. 

quire,  "in  this  niiieteentli  centuiy,  in  this  Christian 
land,  do  tribuhation  and  persecution  arise  because  of 
the  word  ? "  Precisely  as  when  Jesus  uttered  these 
words.  And  there  is  nothing  more  striking  about  the 
Scriptures  than  that,  while  their  garb  is  so  Oriental,  so 
Jewish,  their  statements  should  be  so  universally  true. 
Society  has  utterly  changed  its  forms ;  human  nature 
has  undergone  immense  changes  ;  and  yet  this  parable 
of  the  sower  is  in  every  feature  as  applicable  in  Boston 
to-day,  as  in  Capernaum  eighteen  hundred  years  ago. 
Whoever  will  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  will 
find  social  embarrassments  in  his  way ;  tribulations  ; 
bruisings  of  the  spirit ;  persecutions,  not  so  much  of 
the  axe  as  of  the  stiletto.  If  you  go  toward  heaven,  the 
world  will  rub  hard  against  you ;  for  it  is  going  the 
other  way,  with  an  immense  momentum  in  its  current. 
Its  example  will  make  the  service  of  God  difficult. 
'No  man  can  be  intimately  associated  with  others,  with- 
out at  times  coming  to  a  point  where  his  principles  and 
those  of  his  friends  will  be  tested.  There  are  some 
things  that  the  principles  of  one  allow,  which  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  other  forbid.  Xot,  indeed,  that  this  is 
true  of  religious  principles  only.  Now,  one  or  the 
other  must  prevail  in  such  an  encounter.  If  worldly 
persons  who  cannot  see  that  the  saving  of  their  souls  is 
a  matter  of  supreme  moment,  act  out  their  feelings,  it 
must  sometimes  draw  strongly  and  painfully  upon  the 
social  feelings  of  one  who  means  to  serve  God.  And 
if  his  love  to  God  is  sincere ;  if  his  sense  of  spiritual 
things  is  genuine  ;  if  he  is  in  earnest  to  save  his  soul, 
he  will  be  pained  by  the  struggle  to  resist  the  influence 
of  a  worldly  example.  But  there  he  overcomes  the 
world  by  faith.     He  looks  beyond  what  is  seen  and 


SEED    ON    STONY    PLACES.  231 

temporal.  He  sees  redemption  in  its  reality  and  mag- 
nitude ;  his  own  evil  heart ;  the  world  rushing  to  de- 
struction ;  the  judgment  hastening  ;  the  Word  of  God 
rebuking  and  warning  men  ;  and  thus  he  conquers. 
But  if  he  be  superficial ;  if  the  seed  have  fallen  in  a 
rocky  soil ;  this  is  the  i-ising  of  the  sun,  before  which 
he  withers,  and  shows  that  there  never  was  any  deep- 
ness of  earth.  The  scorching  sun  is  here  placed  for 
the  difficulties  and  trials  of  a  religious  life.  If  all  our 
religion  consisted  in  sitting  in  church,  to  hear  sermons 
and  praise  God,  in  getting  a  kind  of  hope  that  Christ 
will  save  you,  then  it  were  not  through  warfare  that 
we  are  to  reach  heaven.  But,  as  the  case  is,  we  are  to 
go  out  into  this  every-day  world,  and  try  our  spirits  in 
the  struggle  of  life.  And  God  has  declared  that  we 
are  to  be  tried ;  nay,  has  bidden  us  rejoice  that  we  are 
tried.  The  trial  is  not  so  severe  as  that  of  the  final 
judgment ;  but  severe  enough  to  show  to  ourselves, 
always,  and  generally  to  others,  w^hat  we  are  :  so  that 
we  need  not  go  to  that  dread  interview  to  be  disap- 
pointed. 

True  Christians  alwaj^s  have  gloried  in  tribulations. 
It  is  one  of  their  marks.  False  Christians,  on  the  con- 
trary, cannot  bear  them.  From  the  beginning  they  bar- 
gained for  holding  with  the  Church  and  the  world  ;  and 
when  the  two  separate  from  each  other  they  are  full  of 
consternation.  Their  consciences  are  with  the  one,  their 
hearts  with  the  other.  Satan  is  represented  by  our 
Saviour  as  making  speedy  work  with  the  inattentive 
hearer.  He  comes  straight  down,  before  the  man  has 
put  on  his  hat,  and  takes  every  word  right  out  of  his 
heart  and  head.  But  here  he  has  to  take  a  circuitous 
route,  and  be  somewhat  patient.     The  man  in  this  case 


232  LECTUKE   XV. 

lias  cauglit  some  of  the  seed.  Tliere  are  tender  places 
in  his  conscience  and  his  heart.  There  is  some  soil ; 
and  the  seed  catches  there,  and  holds.  Kow  the  mastei 
must  play  with  other  hands.  The  convert  is  full  of 
joy.  The  world  and  he  have  turned  their  backs  on 
each  other.  Yes,  but  there  is  a  mental  reservation  ; 
he  has  compromised  with  his  conscience  ;  agreeing  that 
he  may  regard  the  loss  of  men's  favor,  of  his  comfort, 
his  property,  his  life  as  a  greater  evil  than  retaining  a 
wicked  heart.  And  that  is  the  secret  unity  that  still 
exists  between  him  and  the  world ;  and  therefore  the 
example  of  the  world  will  some  day  come  upon  him  in 
such  a  way  that  he  cannot  bear  the  struggle. 

Sometimes  this  influence  will  come  in  the  form  of 
argument.  The  world  generally  hates  the  doctrines 
of  Christ.  They  have  raised  a  hue  and  cry  against  doc- 
trines, creeds,  and  bigotry.  That  indeed  is  now  wear- 
ing; out.  Yet  this  is  hard  for  one  who  has  learned  the 
doctrines  on  the  mere  testimony  of  God,  to  be  pressed 
with  difficulties  he  cannot  solve.  The  world  argues,  too, 
against  seriousness  and  against  strictness  in  religion. 
And  he  is  so  much  with  the  world  in  heart  that  he  can- 
not answer  their  reasonings. 

Ridicule  is  one  of  their  formidable  weapons.  The 
sage  Sydney  Smith  has  remarked  :  "I  know  of  no  prin- 
ciple which  it  is  of  more  importance  to  fix  in  the  minds 
of  young  people,  than  that  of  the  most  determined  re- 
sistance to  the  encroachments  of  ridicule.  Give  up  to 
the  world,  and  to  the  ridicule  with  which  the  world 
enforces  its  dominion,  in  every  trifling  question  of  man- 
ner and  appearance  ;  for,  it  is  to  toss  courage  and  firm- 
ness to  the  winds,  to  combat  with  the  mass  upon  such 
subjects  as  these.     But  learn,  from  the  earliest  days,  to 


SEED   ON    STONY    PLACES.  233 

insure  your  principles  against  the  perils  of  ridicule.  If 
you  tliink  it  right  to  differ  from  the  times,  and  to  make 
a  stand  for  any  valuable  point  of  morals  (or  religion), 
do  it,  however  rustic,  however  antiquated  it  may  ap- 
pear ;  do  it,  not  for  insolence,  but  seriously  and  grand- 
ly, as  a  man  wears  a  soul  of  his  own  in  his  bosom,  and 
does  not  wait  until  it  shall  be  breathed  into  him  by  the 
breath  of  fashion."  This  is  sound  advice  ;  and  it  would 
have  been  worth  worlds  to  me  and  my  school-fellows,  to 
have  understood  it  and  practised  it.  But  I  believe 
nothing  more  effectually  tests  a  superficial  Christian 
than  to  have  his  opinions  and  peculiar  principles  ridi- 
culed, and  himself  despised. 

It  requires  root  to  bear  the  shining  of  that  scorching 
sun.  The  true  children  of  God  have  always  gloried 
in  tribulation,  and  taken  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their 
goods ;  as  you  see  in  the  11th  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews.  Theirs  is  a  religion,  not  of  comfort,  worldly 
ease  and  honor ;  but  of  sacrifice  for  Christ,  for  truth, 
holiness,  and  heaven.  He  however  who  makes  nothing 
more  of  Christianity,  Christ,  grace,  the  Gospel  and  sal- 
vation, than  the  means  of  relief  from  present  discomfort 
and  future  suffering,  can  never  carry  out  the  practical 
rules  of  Christ  into  daily  life. 

This  subject  furnishes  a  wa/rning  to  the  jpreacher  ; 
not  to  magnify  the  attractive  above  the  painful  features 
of  the  Gospel.  "Whoever  does  so,  deceives  his  hearers. 
Mark  our  Saviour's  preaching  in  this  respect :  not  for 
the  purpose  of  holding  men's  attention  to  suffering  as 
the  greatest  evil,  but  to  aim  to  secm-e  in  every  hearer 
the  adoption  of  principle.  Christian  principle.  The  root, 
though  unseen,  is  the  important  part  of  the  plant ;  giv- 


234  LECTURE   XV. 

ing  to  it  both  firmness  and  nourishment.  Peter  had 
that  root ;  and  well  for  him  that  he  had,  in  that  tem- 
pest which  shook  off  some  of  his  finest  branches,  and 
blew  away  his  glorious  leaves  of  physical  ardor,  natural 
boldness,  and  self-confidence.  He  endured,  because  in 
his  heart  he  held  firmly  to  the  infinite  evil  of  sin,  and 
the  infinite  preciousness  of  Christ,  Immediate  comfort 
and  zeal  are  not  the  results  to  be  sought  by  the  preacher 
or  the  convert ;  they  may  be  superficial. 

This  subject  shows  us  that  apostasies  are  not  the 
fault  of  the  Gospel.  Men  receive  it  by  halves  ;  and  the 
half  they  take  has  not  the  root  in  it.  So  Demas  re- 
ceived it ;  but  Demas  forsook  Paul,  because  he  had 
no  root. 

This  subject  teaches  Christians  to  rejoice  in  trials. 
The  same  sun  that  withers  the  superficial,  strengthens 
the  true  Christian.  Fire  acts  oj^positely  on  gold  and 
chaff.     God's  true  children  are  "  tried  with  fire." 


LECTUEE  Xyi. 

THE  SEED  AMONG  THOENS ;  OR,  THE  FATAL  COMPEOMISK 

Matt.  xiii.  7,  22.  "  And  some  fell  among  thorns ;  and  the  thorns 
sprung  up,  and  choked  them."  "  He  also  that  received  seed  among  the 
thorns,  is  he  that  heareth  the  woi'd ;  and  the  care  of  this  world,  and  the 
deceitfulness  of  riches  choke  the  word,  and  he  becometh  unfruitful." 

Now  we  have  come  to  another  part  of  the  field,  in 
which  the  soil  does  not  lack  adaptedness  to  the  growth 
of  the  seed ;  for  it  has  the  power  to  grow  two  kinds 
at  once.  But  the  plough  having  gone  over  it  too  su- 
perficially, has  cut  down  only  the  stems  of  the  thorns, 
and  left  their  roots.  Since  Adam's  apostasy,  thorns 
and  thistles  and  noxious  herbs  have  found  the  soil  of 
the  earth  peculiarly  congenial  to  their  growth.  Whether 
that  were  by  a  iniraculous  change  in  its  nature,  I  will 
here  not  attempt  to  conjecture.  But  of  the  human 
heart  we  can  speak  by  divine  authority.  The  Word 
of  God  is  to  it  an  exotic  plant,  originating  in  heaven, 
supernaturally  transplanted  here.  But  the  thorns  of 
sin  grow  naturally  and  spontaneously,  while  grace 
thrives  only  by  careful  cultivation. 

By  the  thorns  which  choke  the  good  grain,  the 
great  Teacher  meant  to  point  out  the  various  forms  of 
worldly  good  which  absorb  the  human  afl:ections,  and 


236  LECTDKE    XVI. 

leave  no  place  for  him,  lie  specifies  tliem  to  be, — 
cares  of  this  world,  deceitfiilness  of  riches,  and  desires 
of  other  things.  They  choke  the  growing  grain.  In 
other  terms :  tlie  love  of  the  world  neutralizes  the 
Gospel. 

The  two  other  cases  we  have  been  considering  as 
the  wayside  and.  rocky  ground  hearers,  presented  re- 
spectively, the  inattentive  and  the  cowardly.  The 
former  had  never  awakened  to  a  feeling  which  could 
make  them  realize  that  they  had  any  interest  in  the 
Gospel.  The  latter  had  that  efiemiuate  spirit  which 
seeks  the  crown  without  the  cross.  We  are  now  intro- 
duced to  another  character,  which  we  may  denomi- 
nate— the  compromising.  Tliey  strike  hands  with  the 
Gospel ;  but  with  the  world  at  the  same  time.  They, 
like  the  others,  take  the  Gospel  for  its  promises,  and 
reject  its  terms.  The  former  compromised  that  the 
suffering  for  Christ  should  not  be  exacted  in  their  case. 
These  compromise  in  regard  to  enjoyment.  They  ordi- 
narily are  the  same  person ;  but  it  is  not  always  the 
case.  Some  are  willing  to  suffer  for  their  soul's  good, 
who  are  still  unwilling  to  relinquish  each  rival  to 
Christ. 

The  case  has  these  prominent  features  : — there  is, 
under  the  hearing  of  the  Gospel,  a  partial  suppression 
of  worldliness.  But  the  worldly  desires  gain  an  ulti- 
mate victory  over  the  Gospel. 

We  shall  be  instructed  by  these  parables  just  in 
proportion  to  the  accuracy  of  our  discernment  in  mark- 
ing the  points  selected  by  our  Lord  for  our  special 
notice.  This  case  must  then  be  distinguished  from 
others  with  which  it  might  be  easily  confounded.  It 
is  not  the  worldling  who  never  even  deigns  to  regard 


THE    SEED   AMONG   THORNS.  237 

the  claims  of  God  and  the  destiny  of  his  immortal 
nature  ;  for,  he  is  a  wayside  hearer,  Nor  is  it  the 
cowardly  spirit  that  is  aftrighted  by  nothing  bnt  suifer- 
ing  ;  and  sees  nothing  so  hideous  as  the  Saviour's  cross, 
nothing  so  dreadful  as  his  fiery  baptism  and  his  cup 
of  bitterness.  He  is  described  by  the  rocky  ground. 
The  case  now  brought  before  us  may  be  the  same.  But 
the  distinction  lies  in  the  aspect  of  his  character,  which 
the  attractions  of  the  world  detect.  If  it  be  the  same 
kind  of  character,  its  apostasy  takes  place  under  difier- 
ent  circumstances,  and  is  caused  by  a  different  set  of 
influences.  He  lives  for  a  time  a  seemingly  religious 
life  ;  and  then  yields  his  heart  finally  and  for  ever  to 
something  that  is  not  his  God  and  Redeemer. 
Our  attention  then  is  first  turned  to, 

I.    The    partial    suppression    of  worldliness   in 

HEARING  THE  WoRD. 

I  had  occasion  in  a  preceding  discourse  to  notice 
the  scriptural  use  of  the  term — the  World,  as  very  re- 
markable. 'Not  to  repeat  the  words  of  our  Saviour 
before  cited,  let  us  take  up  one  passage  from  John's 
epistles  :  "  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that 
are  in  the  world.  If  any  man  love  the  world,  the  love 
of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.  For,  all  that  is  in  the 
world,  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eyes, 
and  the  pride  of  life,  is  not  of  the  Father  ;  but  is  of  the 
world.  And  the  world  passeth  away,  and  the  lust 
thereof.  But  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God,  abideth 
for  ever."  Here  are  definitions  of  it  that  cannot  be 
misapprehended.  Here  is  afiirmed  of  it,  that  the  love 
of  it  makes  the  love  of  God  impossible.  And  a  fleet- 
ing life  is  ascribed  to  it,  passing  like  a  shadow ;  and 


238  LECTTJBE    XVI. 

yet  a  sliaddw  for  which  one  has  sold  his  birthright  in 
the  skies.  Cares,  riches,  pleasures  ;  there  they  lie  in 
our  sight.  Who  knows  their  history,  but  He  that  nas 
watched  the  game  of  human  life  with  undiverted  eye, 
now  for  nearly  two  hundred  generations  ?  There  they 
lie  for  us  to  survey  them,  and  recall  what  they  have 
done ;  yea,  what  they  are  doing  at  this  moment. 
Choking  thorns,  at  this  very  moment  found  in  hearts 
here  that  beat  warm  with  the  pulse  of  life.  Suppressed 
,  enough  in  their  activity,  in  some  instances,  to  allow 
this  holy  doctrine  of  grace  to  enter  and  germinate,  and 
take  root,  and  spring  up  ;  but  alas  !  growing  at  the 
same  pace  unheeded,  and  so  unchecked,  until  it  shall 
be  found  that  their  earthly  nature  is  so  much  better 
suited  to  this  earthly  climate,  that  they  will  blight  the 
tender  plants  of  heaven  in  their  shade,  rob  their  roots 
of  nourishment,  and  ultimately  remain  masters  of  the 
field  ;  a  field  of  thorns,  thistles,  and  briars  ! 

We  are  then  first  to  account  for  it,  that  one  should 
retain  his  love  of  the  world,  and  at  the  same  time  give 
even  a  partial  entertainment  to  that  Gospel,  its  deadly 
antagonist.     Two  circumstances  will  explain  it. 

1.  The  attention  of  the  Tuind  is,  for  the  time,  di- 
verted from  the  world.  Human  consciousness  follows 
the  will  and  sensibilities.  It  takes  no  cognizance  of 
deep,  underlying  principles  in  the  heart.  They  may  be 
master-principles,  giving  to  the  character  its  every  dis- 
tinctive feature,  and  shaping  the  whole  current  of  ac- 
tion ;  and  yet,  under  particular  circumstances,  they 
shall  be  to  the  soul's  consciousness,  anniliilated.  This 
law  of  the  mind  is  of  the  first  magnitude ;  and  yet 
human  history  is  filled  with  the  delusions  which  men 
practise  on  themselves  by  overlooking  it.     One  illus- 


THE   SEED   AMONG   THORNS.  239 

tration  of  it  shall  satisfy  us.  When  the  ardent,  honest 
Peter  declared  to  Christ  that  he  would  follow  him  to 
prison  and  to  death,  he  was  conscious  of  feeling  just 
what  he  uttered.  But  there  lay  slumbering  in  his  soul 
at  that  instant,  a  coal  that  needed  but  the  breath  of  per- 
secution to  fan  it  into  a  flame,  which  should  nearly 
consume  him.  His  compassionate  Lord  saw  it  there. 
It  was  the  natural  love  of  life,  yet  unchastened  by  the 
supreme  love  of  Christ. 

Now  men  may  have  no  consciousness  that  they  are 
governed  by  a  love  of  the  world ;  and  may  readily 
embrace  the  hopes  of  the  Gospel,  under  an  impression 
of  their  entire  sincerity  and  earnestness  in  doing  it, 
while  at  the  same  time  their  hearts  cling  to  the  created 
sources  of  enjoyment,  with  a  tenacity  strong  as  the 
desire  of  happiness  and  di-ead  of  misery  can  make  it. 
The  first  reason  of  this  temporary  ascendency  of  the 
Gospel,  and  of  their  delusion  in  regard  to  its  complete- 
ness, is  :  the  strong  impression  which  is,  for  the  time, 
made  on  the  sensibilities.  It  may  come  in  various  forms. 
One  is — a  temporary  disgust  with  the  world.  This  has 
deceived  thousands  ;  for  this  very  disgust  derives  its 
acuteness  from  the  strength  of  that  affection  which  is 
disappointed.  The  man  who  has  calmly  looked  behind 
every  mask  the  world  wears,  long  recognized  the  hol- 
lowness  of  its  pretensions,  and  the  falseness  of  its  prom- 
ises, is  the  very  farthest  from  any  paroxysm  of  disgust. 
He  has  been  accustomed  to  consider  a  thorn  a  thorn  ; 
and  if  by  any  inattention  he  leaned  his  hand  upon  it, 
and  it  pierced  him,  he  only  reproaches  himself  for  his 
heedlessness,  and  walks  thereafter  more  guardedly. 

But  here  are  your  romancers,  whose  gravest  occu- 
pation in  youth  was  the  day-dream.     The}^  studied  the 


240  LEOTTJKE   XVI. 

world  through  their  fancies  and  their  favorite  writers. 
And,  on  some  dark  day  a  storm  arises,  and  lightnings 
strike  the  cherished  tree  on  which  grew  their  heart's 
fondest  hopes.  In  an  instant  its  blossoms  wither ;  its 
leaves  are  scattered  ;  its  shattered  trunk  alone  remains. 
And  to  the  heart's  moanings  there  is  no  response  but 
sullen  thunder,  howling  wind,  and  roaring  floods.  Such 
has  the  world  become  in  one  day  to  some  that  most 
fondly  cherished,  most  devoutly  worshipped  it.  Now 
the  love  of  the  world,  as  a  principle,  may  remain  en- 
tirely unshaken  by  all  this  violence.  Only  for  the  time 
it  ceases  to  flow  in  its  accustomed  channels.  Ask  the 
Buff'erer  how  the  world  now  appears.  The  reply  is — 
"  disgusting."  And  now  if  the  gentle  tones  of  mercy 
are  heard  floating  down  from  some  soft  harp  on  Zion's 
hill,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  it  should  strike  a  deep, 
responsive  chord  in  that  lacerated  heart.  The  seed  of 
the  kingdom  drops  upon  a  mellow  soil,  and  springs  up 
with  great  promise.  Yes,  but  the  ploughing  was  not 
thorough.  The  tops  of  the  thorn-bushes  are  cut  down ; 
But  the  roots  and  the  seeds  are  there  still !  It  is  not 
enough  to  kill  the  worldliness  of  our  hearts,  that  we 
should  find  ourselves  cheated  by  the  world.  Another 
form  is  the  sadness  caused  by  slighted  affections.  Many 
a  worldly  heart  pretending  to  forsake  the  world,  has 
carried  the  thorns  of  worldliness  to  a  monastery,  be- 
cause a  blighting  frost  of  selfish  indifference  had  cut 
down  their  blossoms  and  their  stems. 

There  is  a  sudden  discovery  of  unfaithfulness  in 
men,  which  makes  others  turn  to  religion  for  relief. 

Some  grow  weary  of  waiting  such  tedious  years  for 
the  world  to  realize  the  golden  schemes  it  pictured  to 
the  youthful  fancy  ;  and  they  become  religious. 


THE    SEED    AMONG    THOENS.  241 

Some  become  misantliroj>ic  from  envy  at  others' 
success.  Their  religion  partakes  always  of  the  suUen- 
ness,  moroseness,  and  misanthropy  in  which  it  originated. 

Some  grow  weary  of  the  world  in  each  specific 
form,  because  they  have  exhausted  every  fountain  it 
contains.  And  in  this  satiety,  not  less  worldly,  but 
demanding  a  change,  they  turn  to  the  Gospel.  These 
are  forms  of  disgust,  which,  for  the  time,  divert  the  at- 
tention from  the  world ;  but  do  not  necessarily,  nor 
certainly,  destroy  the  love  of  it. 

Then  the  ascendency  of  the  world  may  also  be  tem- 
porarily checked  by  convictions  which  go  deeper  than 
impressions  of  disgust.  The  folly  of  ambition,  of  covet- 
ousness,  of  fashion,  of  a  life  of  pleasure,  sometimes 
flashes  on  the  mind,  like  a  friendly  beam  from  heaven. 
In  an  instant  the  whole  matter  lies  before  the  mind's 
eye  ;  and  the  man  exclaims :  "  What  a  fool  I  am,  to 
spend  my  life  thus  !  To  what  end  am  I  toiling  ;  what 
do  all  I  enjoy,  all  I  expect,  amount  to,  at  last !  "  And 
he  resolves  to  begin  life  anew.  He  seems  weary  of  the 
world.  But  he  is  not  the  first  who  had  fits  of  dissatis- 
faction with  a  service,  which,  after  all,  nothing  could 
bribe  him  to  quit.  There  are,  too,  deep  convictions  of 
guilt  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  fearful  openings  of  the  past 
as  it  is  going  to  be  reviewed  in  the  future  ;  forebodings 
of  a  day  which  shall  scatter  illusions,  and  reveal  the 
holy  government  of  God  in  a  majesty,  j)urity,  and  in- 
flexibleness  which  shall  leave  no  room  for  hope  to  any 
but  the  truly  penitent. 

All  this  so  fills  and  occupies  the  mind,  that  the 
world  fades  away,  as  a  taper  light  at  sunrise.     And 
the  world  seems  not  to  be  loved,  simply  because  it  is 
aot  now  an  object  of  thought. 
11 


242  LECTUEE   XVI. 

There  may  be  also  an  awakening  of  the  natural  re- 
ligions sensibilities,  which  overpowers  temporarily  all 
conscions  desires  of  worldly  good.  The  thought  of  God 
may  swell  up  in  the  soul  as  from  an  infinite  abyss  ; 
rising  and  expanding,  until  every  other  object  is  anni- 
hilated. How  awful,  how  glorious  is  his  being,  his  per- 
fection, his  duration,  his  thought,  his  purpose,  his  gov- 
ernment !  "When  the  mind  begins  to  conceive  of  it,  the 
world  shrinks  away,  until  it  is  lost  in  its  infinite  little 
ness.  The  thought  of  opposing  him  seems  prepos- 
terous ;  the  thought  of  losing  his  favor  is  insupportable. 
To  be  his  child ;  to  be  in  covenant  with  him  ;  to  love, 
and  be  loved ;  to  praise  and  serve  him  ;  to  commune 
with  him  ;  to  dwell  with  him  for  ever !  Before  these 
considerations  the  mind  cannot  retain  its  active  attach- 
ment to  the  world.  Whatever  love  remains,  must 
slumber  like  the  love  of  mirth,  in  the  chamber  of  the 
dying. 

And  so  too  there  are  thoughts  of  the  saints,  of  men 
who  have  loved  God,  and  men  who  now  love  him, 
which  make  the  covetous  Balaam  exclaim :  "  Let  me 
die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be 
like  his." 

Tliere  are  glimpses  of  lieaven,  too,  which  stifle 
worldly  affections.  "  Shall  I  be  there  ?  How  happy, 
how  holy,  how  blessed  !  Shall  I  be  there  ?"  ISTo  man 
can  make  that  inquiry,  with  serious  thought,  and  not 
suppress,  for  the  time,  each  worldly  desire. 

This  is  the  first  part  of  the  explanation.  The  other 
may  be  more  briefly  despatched.  Not  to  accuse  any 
man  of  wilful  hypocrisy,  I  am  attempting  to  show  liow 
one  may  retain  his  love  to  the  world,  and  yet  imagine 
he  has  no  such  love.     Thus  far  we  have  seen  the  mind 


THE    SEED    A3I0NG    THORNS.  243 

80  diverted  to  other  and  contrasted  objects,  that  the 
mere  absence  of  worldly  goods  from  the  attention 
would  account  for  its  suspended  attachment  to  them. 
Another  solution  is  : 

2.  The  Gosjpel  is  taken  up,  without  reference,  to  its 
opposition  to  the  world.  It  does  indeed  seem  sur- 
prising, that  any  one  with  ordinary  discernment,  can 
meet  the  Son  of  God  any  where,  or  his  Gospel  in  any 
part,  and  not  see,  that  neither  he  nor  it  are  of  the 
world ;  that  the  world  is  not  of  him ;  that  the  world 
knoweth  him  not ;  that  to  follow  him,  we  must  go 
"  without  the  camp,"  and  walk  in  a  narrow  and  un- 
popular path  ;  being  "  a  peculiar  people,"  "  crucified 
to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  us,"  But  it  is  just  so. 
Men  do  regard  themselves  as  religious,  who  never 
formed  one  definite  idea  as  to  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the 
Gospel,  and  its  unworldly  features.  And  that  they  do, 
we  need  no  other  evidence  than  this  part  of  the  para- 
ble. Here  were  grains  that  actually  took  root  and 
grew  ;  but  they  never  reached  maturity,  for  the  thorns 
of  care,  riches  and  pleasure  choked  them,  and  they 
came  to  nothing.  Now,  unless  all  such  persons  delibe- 
rately take  up  religion  to  make  a  mock  of  it,  while 
they  pretend  to  seriousness,  we  must  believe  that  they 
are  utterly  mistaken  in  regard  to  its  nature  and  require- 
ments ;  they  have  neither  formed  a  definite  idea  what 
the  Scriptures  mean  to  describe  as  the  world,  nor  of 
their  opposition  to  it. 

Some  become  religious  by  embracing  a  theory ; 
others  by  feeling  sad,  and  then  happy ;  but  if  they  have 
not  forsaken  the  world,  they  will  not  be  religious 
enough,  nor  long  enough  to  "bear  fruit  to  eternal 
life."      There   are   thorns  in  the  ground,  which  will 


244  LECTUKE   XVI. 

yet  effectually  choke   every  religious   sentiment   and 
purpose. 

We  now  proceed  to  consider  this  second  stage  : 

II.  The  tjltimate  triumph  of  the  "World  over  the 
Gospel. 

"  He  also  that  received  seed  among  the  thorns,  is 
he  that  heareth  the  word ;  and  the  care  of  the  world, 
and  the  deceitfulness  of  riches  choke  the  word  ;  and  he 
becometh  unfruitful." 

We  are  here  to  observe  the  feebleness  of  the  reli- 
gious principle,  and  the  strength  of  the  worldly  prin- 
ciple. 

1.  The  feebleness  of  the  religious  pri7iciple.  It 
sprung  from  transient  causes.  If  these  causes  had  been 
made  merely  occasions,  it  would  have  been  well.  But 
it  remained  a  thing  of  impulse,  and  did  not  become  a 
matter  of  principle.  You  ask,  what  should  have  been 
done  by  him  who  was  disgusted  with  the  world,  weary 
of  its  burdens,  tired  of  its  pleasures ;  or  by  him  on 
w^hom  the  light  of  God's  person  and  law  had  shone  ;  or 
him  who  saw  the  beams  of  eternity's  light  thrown  on 
earth's  dark  path  ?  He  should  have  struck  the  blow 
that  would  have  emancipated  him  from  the  world.  To 
describe  that  blow,  I  would  resolve  the  love  of  the  world 
into  its  first  element, — a  lie  ;  a  malignant  falsehood, 
forged  in  the  regions  of  thickest  night ;  conceived  in 
the  breast  of  a  being  so  foul,  so  murderous,  so  deceit- 
ful, that  men  are  doubtful  if  such  can  be.  That  grand, 
rebellious,  blasphemous,  polluting,  soul-destroying  error 
is  :  "  Man  can  be  happy  without  the  favor  of  God,  and 
without  loving  God."  Tliat  once  believed,  then  the 
natural  excellence  with  which  God  has  endowed  his 


THE    SEED   AMONG   THORNS.  245 

creatures ;  find  the  thousand  sources  of  inferior  good 
which  he  designed  they  should  contain,  are  eagerly  em- 
braced by  the  soul.  It  has  abandoned  God,  and  yet 
must  till  its  insatiable  longings  for  enjoyment,  as  well 
as  it  then  can.  Having  lost  the  infinite,  it  must  make 
the  most  it  can  of  the  finite  ;  getting  in  quantity  as 
much  as  possible ;  and  filling  up  by  the  imagination 
what  is  wanting  in  the  reality. 

Now  here  is  the  turning-point.  K  the  soul  in  that 
state  of  suspension  and  transition,  had  renounced  the 
lie,  and  embraced  with  the  inmost  strength  of  its  be- 
lief, the  truth,  that  God  is  its  portion,  and  the  world  an 
infinitely  inferior  good  ;  God's  promise  is  true  ;  the 
world's  questionable,  often  false ;  then  might  it  have 
died  to  the  world  as  Paul  did,  and  have  risen  with  the 
Son  of  God  to  a  new  life.  Here  is  the  turning-point 
between  faith  and  worldliness ;  the  belief  either  that 
God,  or  the  world  is  the  soul's  portion.  At  whatever 
point  short  of  a  right  decision  of  that  question  in  the 
inner  heart,  the  soul  stops,  its  religion  is  a  shallow 
stream,  without  a  fountain ;  feeble,  however  impetuous ; 
short-lived,  however  promising. 

Then,  when  we  add  to  this  feebleness  of  the  re- 
ligious principle, 

2.  The  strength  of  the  worldly  jprincijple^  the  case  is 
fully,  though  painfully  solved.  And  to  judge  how 
strong  it  is,  we  may  remember,  that  there  is  in  man  a 
mysterious  native  bias.  Call  it  original  sin,  or  reject 
that  title ;  yet,  there  it  is.  Man  is  not  naturally,  or 
spontaneously,  or  generally  inclined  to  God.  Stop  the 
first  godly  man  that  you  meet  to-morrow  in  the  street, 
and  ask  him,  whether  he  was  accustomed  from  the  firpt, 
«.nd  naturally,  tf  delight  in  God  or  in  the  world.     His 


246  LECTURE   XVI. 

answer  will  be  :  "  Oh,  I  was  worldly,  and  not  godly/' 
Ask  the  second,  and  he  will  tell  you  the  same  ;  that, 
from  his  early  childhood,  solitary  prayer  and  commnn- 
ion  with  God  were  his  task,  if  performed  at  all.  Play, 
toys,  eating,  fun,  seeing  sights,  were  the  fountains  of 
his  happiness.  I  remember  but  two  men  who  profess 
to  be  pious,  that  deny  the  existence  of  an  evil  heart  in 
themselves.  And  yet  the  memory  of  one  of  them  was 
manifestly  biassed  by  a  theory  ;  for  a  college  friend  of 
his  assured  me  he  was  manifestly  converted  in  a  re- 
vival, when  a  student.  Well  now,  if  it  be  so  with  the 
godly,  then  what  shall  we  say  of  the  ungodly  ?  Shall 
we  wickedly  contradict  the  testimony  of  the  Most 
High  ?  shall  we  vainly  conceal  from  ourselves  our  own 
misery,  instead  of  fleeing  to  those  outstretched  arms 
that  proifer  relief ;  to  tliat  sympathizing  heart  that  will 
not  upbraid  nor  reject,  but  tenderly  regard  our  necessi- 
ties and  our  fears  ?  I  tiirn  your  attention  to  the  native 
disposition  of  the  human  heart.  Man  begins  his  moral 
existence,  believing  this  fundamental  falsehood ;  that 
his  happiness  must  come  from  things  seen  and  tempo- 
ral. And  hence,  the  energy  that  should  be  given  to 
prayer,  to  seeking  God,  to  holy  meditation,  to  the  study 
of  the  Scriptures,  is  given  to  amusement,  to  business, 
to  cultivating  the  friendship  and  favor  of  man.  ]^ow 
I  will  maintain  no  theory,  about  which  there  is  room 
for  difli'erence  of  opinion  ;  but  take  the  simple,  fearful, 
unquestionable  fact  of  this  tendency  in  man,  to  show 
that  unless  religion,  when  embraced,  be  a  principle ; 
unless  it  consist  partly,  in  detecting,  and  from  the  depth 
of  the  soul,  renouncing  that  great  lie  which  is  at  the 
basis  of  all  worldliness,  there  can  be  no  permanence. 
That  man's  religion  is  a  garment,  put  on  because  it  is 


THE    SEED   AJVIONG   THORNS.  247 

just  then  in  fashion  in  his  ch-cle  ;  a  cloak  gathered 
aroinid  him  for  the  occasion  of  a  stormy  day  ;  "but 
easily  and  certainly  thrown  aside  under  milder  skies. 
Kow,  if  to  this  native  bias  to  worldliness,  be  added  the 
power  of  habit,  the  reason  becomes  more  manifest  still 
why  so  many  religious  impressions  are  transient.  The 
nature  of  habit  is  such,  that  if  a  person  under  its  influ- 
ence abstains  from  the  first  repetition  of  the  accustomed 
act,  mental  or  bodily,  he  may  conquer  it  with  compara- 
tive ease ;  but  the  first  step  in  the  old  direction,  com- 
mits the  whole  body  to  a  slippery  declivity,  where 
there  is  no  foothold,  and  no  power  of  resistance.  The 
slaves  of  alcohol  declare  that  so  long  as  they  keep  en- 
tirely aloof  from  their  insidious  foe,  they  have  very 
little  difficulty  in  reconciling  themselves  to  soberness. 
But  one  taste,  even  the  odor  of  spirits,  revives  the  slum- 
bering appetite  ;  and  they  and  their  resolutions  sink 
like  Pharaoh  and  his  hosts,  as  lead  in  the  sea.  Total 
abstinence  is  their  strength.  But  what  if  one  of  them 
should  still  believe  that,  after  all,  his  happiness  was  in 
the  cup,  and  nowhere  else  ?  Then  he  is  lost.  Unless 
you  can  disabuse  him,  there  is  no  recovery.  Just  par- 
allel to  this  is  the  case  of  the  worldly  heart.  It  mat- 
ters not  what  changes  are  made,  so  long  as  that  one 
change  is  not  made,  the  power  of  habit  will  overmaster 
the  superficial  convictions  and  impressions  which  have 
induced  this  appearance  of  piety.  The  soul  cannot 
conquer  its  own  worldly  propensities  and  habits,  until 
it  comes  to  believe  most  deeply  and  entirely  that  God 
is  its  portion ;  and  his  creatures  the  mere  instruments 
of  his  goodness.  This  is  the  creed  that  is  indispensable 
to  salvation.      That  is  the  orthodoxy  without  wliich 


248  LECTURE   XVI. 

every  soul  must  perisli,  let  its  doctrina.  creed  be  sound 
or  false. 

But  we  have  not  yet  surveyed  the  whole  ground. 
To  this  native  bias,  and  power  of  habit,  must  be  added  : 
the  direct  power  of  the  world.  There  is  no  creature 
of  God,  that  is  not,  in  itself,  good.  Aaron  Burr  was 
good,  if  you  look  at  his  being  as  a  man,  his  endow- 
ments as  a  man  of  genius.  But  he  was  one  of  the  most 
pernicious  and  dangerous  men  of  his  age.  How  ?  By 
perversion.  He  believed  that  he  could  be  happy  by 
neglecting  God,  and  indulging  his  ambition  and  his  aj  - 
petites.  And  he  gave  to  that  creed  the  energies  of  a 
powerful  and  brilliant  mind.  But  did  he  corrupt  such 
men  as  President  Dwight  ?  No  ;  for  they  did  not  be- 
lieve in  him,  nor  his  great  falsehood.  They  regarded 
him  as  a  creature  of  God  made  for  great  and  good  pur- 
poses. But  they  regarded  him  as  perverted  from  that 
use,  and  employed  by  the  enemy  of  all  good  for  his 
nefarious  purposes.  Many,  however,  to  their  dreadful 
cost,  if  not  their  ruin,  believed  in  him ;  courted  his 
favor  more  than  God's  ;  and  they  were  undone.  ISTow 
the  world  is,  like  this  man,  a  good  creature  of  God ; 
but,  like  him,  it  has  come  under  the  power  of  evil.  It 
is  perverted.  When  Satan  would  destroy  our  race,  he 
did  not  present  himself  in  person,  and  hold  up  evil  in 
its  nakedness  ;  and  say  :  there,  take  that  poison  for  its 
own  sake  ;  there,  sin,  for  the  sake  of  sinning.  He  ap- 
peared in  a  borrowed  form,  and  put  the  moral  poison 
in  a  harmless  creature.  There  you  have  his  whole 
policy.  He  has  never  invented  any  thing  deeper  than 
that.  He  has  applied  it  in  ten  thousand  forms.  But 
that  is  his  policy.  His  victory  over  our  great  ances- 
tors, lay  in  producing  the  conviction,  that  something 


THE    SEED    AMONG    THORNS.  249 

Desides  God ;  sometliing  independent  of  God ;  some- 
thing in  opposition  to  God,  was  essential  to  complete 
their  happiness.  The  parable  gives  us,  as  reported  by 
Luke,  three  forms  in  which  the  world  neutralizes  the 
power  of  the  Gospel, — care^riches — and  the  desire  of 
other  things. 

There  is  a  care  which  becomes  us  as  endowed  with 
forethought.  In  itself,  not  wrong,  it  must  be  wrong  as 
soon  as  it  comes  under  the  control  of  that  practical 
falsehood  which  is  the  key-stone  of  Satan's  empire. 
The  care  for  the  morrow  which  Christ  forbids,  when 
he  points  us  to  the  ravens  and  the  lilies,  is  that  which 
proceeds  from  our  being  alienated  from  God,  and  doubt- 
ing his  kindness.  The  poor  feel  it,  the  rich  feel  from 
it.  Every  human  being  must  feel  it,  when  he  recog- 
nizes his  own  inability  to  control  those  things  in  which 
he  has  placed  his  happiness.  Itself  a  sin,  it  begets  sin. 
It  fills  the  mind  with  so  many  vain  desires,  perplexing 
thoughts,  and  wicked  purposes,  that  God's  holy  word 
can  find  no  permanent  entertainment  there. 

The  deceitfulness  of  riches  is  another  thorn,  or  chok- 
ing weed.  If  one  sets  out  to  make  the  mere  acquiring 
property  a  supreme  end,  he  will  be  deceived,  and 
cheated  out  of  happiness  and  heaven.  Every  step  he 
takes  is  but  acting  out  his  ungodly  principle,  his  be- 
lief in  a  falsehood.  Some  men  make  success  in  busi- 
ness their  God.  It  is  not  so  much  property,  as  the 
getting  it,  in  which  they  regard  happiness  to  lie.  Who- 
ever makes  that  his  end,  must  stifle  whatever  religious 
principle  and  feelings  he  has.  The  making  riches 
themselves  an  end  of  pursuit,  appears  to  some  very 
wise  and  supremely  important.  They  too  are  deceived. 
And  they  find  it  impossible  to  keep  the  heart  fixed 
11* 


250  LECTUKE    XVI. 

on  both  worlds.  He  that  will  gaze  on  the  earth,  can- 
not see  the  heavens.  "No  man  can  serve  two  mas- 
tei's."  Some,  who  have  no  riches,  nor  the  prospect  of 
them,  make  the  appearing  to  be  rich  an  indispensable 
means  of  happiness.  And  in  their  hearts  and  homes 
the  thorns  grow  thick  and  strong.  Some  make  their 
happiness  consist  in  selfish  expenditures.  They  fill 
their  time,  their  minds,  their  hearts  so  fnll,  that  re- 
ligion must  sleep  in  the  streets  ;  they  have  no  room  for 
its  entertainment. 

Then  an  innumerable  host  of  interests,  objects  and 
passions,  are  included  under  the  phrase — the  lust  of 
other  things.  But  we  have  gone  far  enough  to  see 
this  principle  established — that  the  mastery  of  one 
worldly  desire  over  the  human  heart,  will  efifectually 
neutralize  all  the  power  of  the  Gospel.  The  evidence 
of  it  is  in  the  fact,  that  the  prevalence  of  that  desire 
proves  the  complete  delusion  of  the  soul  on  a  vital 
point.  And  every  indulgence  of  the  desire  strengthens 
the  soul's  aversion  to  God.  Now,  as  the  whole  power 
of  the  word  consists  in  its  showing  us  that  Christ  alone 
can  satisfy  the  soul,  and  is  willing  to  be  its  portion, 
that  word  loses  its  power  wherever  the  world  is  taken 
or  sought  for  the  soul's  portion.  The  thorns  must 
choke  the  good  grain,  and  make  it  fruitless. 

We  see  in  this  and  the  jpi'eceding  jpart  of  the  ^ara- 
hle,  where  Satan! s  strength  lies.  The  pains  of  duty  and 
the  pleasures  of  sin  are  the  cords  with  which  he  binds 
men,  and  leads  them  captive.  Hence  those  who  have 
conquered  him,  are  distinguished  by  preferring  painful 
duty  to  pleasant  sin.  The  Lord  himself  despised  the 
cross  ;  enduring  the  shame.  The  martyrs  counted  not 
their  lives  dear.    The  confessors  took  joyfully  the  spioil- 


THE    SEED    AMONG    THORNS.  261 

ing  of  tneir  goods.  Tlie  true  victor  is  one  who  prefers 
to  lose  the  right  hand  or  the  right  eye,  rather  than  God's 
favor.      He  would  rather  die  than  do  wrong. 

Moses  "  counted  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater 
riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt — choosing  rather  to 
suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season."     "We  see  here 

The  intense  interest  of  a  mincDs  religious  histm^y. 
A  child  receives  religious  instruction.  At  the  same 
time  in  his  heart  remains  a  bias,  a  wrong  habit ;  a  great 
falsehood  is  believed  by  him. 

By  and  by  comes  the  contest.  First,  there  is  an 
intelligent  abandonment  of  the  world ;  then  a  steady 
conquest  of  this  native  bias  by  faith  in  Christ.  Or, 
there  is  a  yielding  to  Satan's  doctrine  ;  "  Tlie  world  is 
necessary  to  my  happiness."  The  strength  of  the  soul 
is  then  given  to  the  world.  The  rest  of  the  heart  fur- 
nishes a  poor,  thin  soil  for  God's  truth. 

How  many  characters  apparently  destined  to  great 
energy,  become  feeble  by  being  absorbed  in  little  ob- 
jects !  How  many  noble  souls  become  shallow,  for 
want  of  truth  in  the  heart !  "  Behold,  thou  requirest 
truth  in  the  inward  parts." 

The  case  of  the  backslider  is  here  illustrated.  He 
lacked,  from  the  beginning,  a  full  belief  of  the  world's 
emptiness ;  as  also  a  sufficiently  definite  conscious- 
ness of  the  native  bias  to  evil,  and  of  the  power  of 
habit  confirming  that  tendency.  There  was  wanting, 
consequently,  sufficient  vigilance  and  faithfulness  to 
guard  against  temptation.  Satan  always  parleys  with 
the  traitor  in  the  castle. 


252  LECTinRE   XVI. 

Here  we  see  also  the  duty  of  tlie  worldly-minded. 
"  Break  up  your  fallow  ground  ; "  kill  the  thorns,  or 
they  will  kill  you ;  for  we  are  here  told  what  will 
be  the  issue  with  those  persons,  in  whose  hearts 
only  thorns  and  thistles  grow.  Their  end  is,  "to  he 
burned." 


LECTUKE  XYH. 

THE  TWO  SONS  ;  OR,  SELF-KIGHTEOUS  OBEDIENCE. 

Matt.  xxi.  28-32. — "  But  wliat  think  ye ;  a  certain  man  had  two 
sons;  and  he  came  to  the  first,  and  said,  Son,  go  work  to-day  in  my 
vineyard.  He  answered  and  said,  I  will  not ;  but  afterward  he  repented, 
and  went.  And  he  came  to  the  second,  and  said  likewise.  And  he  an- 
swered and  said,  I  go,  sir ;  and  went  not.  Whether  of  them  twain 
did  the  will  of  his  father  ?  They  say  unto  him,  The  first.  Jesus  saith 
unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  That  the  publicans  and  the  harlots  go 
Into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you.  For  John  came  unto  you  in  the  way 
of  righteousness,  and  ye  believed  him  not ;  but  the  publicans  and  the  har- 
lots believed  him  :  and  ye,  when  ye  had  seen  if,  repented  not  afterward, 
that  ye  might  believe  him." 

Tnirs  far  we  have  followed  the  great  Sower,  in  his 
want  of  success.  And  as  He  himself  is  our  guide,  we 
are  sure  not  to  have  exaggerated.  The  next  step  would 
be,  to  contemplate  his  success.  But  as  other  parables 
present  still  varied  aspects  of  disobedience  to  the  Gos- 
pel, we  now  consider  them  ;  reserving  the  considera- 
tion of  the  seed  sown  in  good  ground.  We  have  seen 
three  causes  of  failure  in  the  hearing  of  the  Gospel ; 
heedlessness,  cowardice,  and  compromise.  Another  is 
= elf-righteousness,  or  a  false  obedience.  The  Pharisees 
were  so  distinguished  for  that,  that  even  the  wickedest  of 
their  nation  were  more  obedient  to  John  the  forerunner, 


254  LECTURE  xvn. 

and  to  the  Lord  himself,  than  they.  To  set  their  con- 
duct in  the  riglit  light,  he  thus  addresses  them : 

"  What  think  ye  ;  a  certain  man  had  two  sons  ;  and 
he  came  to  the  first,  and  said  ;  Son,  go,  work  to-day  in 
my  vineyard.  He  answered  and  said  :  I  w^ill  not ;  but 
afterward  he  repented  and  went."  What  think  ye  of 
that  ?  It  was  very  wicked  in  that  son  to  reply  thus  to 
a  father's  command.  And  yet,  hear  the  rest  of  the 
story.  "He  came  to  the  second,  and  said  likewise. 
And  he  answered  and  said :  I  go,  sir,  and  went  not." 
ISTow  tell  me  what  you  think  of  that?  Ton  despise 
these  publicans  that  once  lived  in  unmasked  iniquity  ; 
and  yet,  they  are  repenting,  and  returning  to  their  duty. 
These  degraded  women,  who  have  formerly  made  no 
pretensions  to  obedience,  have  now  turned,  at  the 
preaching  of  John,  and  become  truly  obedient  to  God  ; 
while  you,  whose  professions  and  pretensions  are  con- 
tinually repeating  :  "  I  go,  sir,"  have  never  yet  begun 
to  do  the  will  of  God. 

The  son  who  said :  "  I  go,  sir,"  did  not  mean  to 
please  his  father.  He  simply  intended  to  please  him- 
self by  not  working ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  stand 
well  with  himself,  by  professing  obodience.  Startle 
not  at  the  folly  of  this  management.  It  is  repeated 
every  day.  It  will  be  repeated  imder  this  sermon ; 
with  almost  absolute  certainty. 

My  first  object  is,  to  show, 

I.   The  false  promises   of  obedience,  which  men 

MAKE   TO   their  CrEATOR. 

Tlie  first  case  I  mention  is  that  of, 
1.  Persons  always  meaning,  in   their  prondse,  a 
different  law  froin  that  to  which   God  rpfers  in   his 


THE   TWO    SONS.  256 

requirement.  "Why  are  impenitent  persons  so  undis- 
turbed in  their  self-complacency  when  contemplating 
God  as  holy,  or  as  their  linal  Judge  ?  He  has,  they 
admit,  placed  man  under  law  ;  and  his  law  is  holy  ; 
sometimes  indeed  above  their  attainments  and  perform- 
ances. But  they  have  always  intended  "  to  do  about 
right."  "When  the  voice  of  Divine  authority  is  heard 
from  Sinai's  top,  it  never  disturbs  them,  so  conscious  are 
they  of  intending  to  obey.  "  Son,  go  work  to-day  in 
my  vineyard,"  is  the  command.  "I  go,  sir,"  is  the 
prompt  reply.  But  do  they  go  ?  or,  in  other  words,  is 
their  obedience  such  as  the  Lawgiver  can  acknow- 
ledge ?  No  ;  for  they  do  not  even  intend  to  render 
obedience  to  God's  law,  but  to  one  of  their  own  in- 
vention. 

The  law  of  God  requires  nothing  short  of  spiritual 
perfection.  And  whoever  is  professing  to  render  per- 
fect obedience  to  that,  should  certainly  understand  the 
ground  he  occupies,  and  the  attitude  in  which  he  pre- 
sents himself  before  his  Judge.  Many  men  would 
shrink  from  professing  to  be  Christians,  but  they  have 
no  hesitation  in  professing  sufficient  goodness  to  take 
them  to  heaven.  But  this  is  self-deception  ;  for,  they 
no  more  intend  by  that  ^^romise  that  they  will  become 
perfectly  holy,  from  this  instant,  than  they  intend  to 
make  a  journey  to  the  moon.  And  it  is  just  as  absurd 
and  more  wicked  to  promise  the  former  than  the  latter. 
They  do  not  mean  to  render  a  full  obedience  of  the 
heart  and  inmost  soul  to  all  God's  requirements.  But 
the  demand  of  his  law  is  chiefly  on  the  heart.  They 
however  intend  only  an  outward  obedience.  Love  is 
the  only  morality  that  God  approves  ;  love  to  himself, 
BO  intense  and  universal,  that  it  employs  the  whole 


256  LECTUKE   XVII. 

mind,  heart,  soul  and  strength.  Unregenerated  man 
lias  no  morality  that  approaches  to  even  the  semblance 
of  this  form  of  goodness.  What  love  have  the  most 
amiable  and  upright  people  who  hope  to  be  saved  by 
the  law  ?  They  love  their  kindred,  their  friends,  with 
strong  affection.  They  are  attached  to  their  party, 
their  country ;  and  have  a  general  good  will  to  man- 
kind. But  that  loving  his  neighbor  as  he  loves 
himself,  who  does  it  ?  That  neighbor  includes  many 
people  that  have  very  disagreeable  qualities  ;  people 
that  hate  us ;  people  that  will  injure  us  if  they  can. 
That  love  will  tax  our  sympathies,  our  time,  our  pray- 
ers, our  purse.  It  will  often  severely  try  us,  by  being 
totally  unrequited.  It  will,  if  real,  enter  into  all  our 
business  transactions,  our  domestic  arrangements,  our 
intercourse  with  men.  It  will  make  us  unlike  all  the 
people  that  are  living  mainly  for  themselves.  Blessing 
others  becomes,  under  its  control,  the  business  of  life, 
to  which  all  other  business  is  only  an  aid.  Who  loves 
his  neighbor  as  himself?  who  dares  to  say  to  his  Mas- 
ter issuing  this  command — I  go,  sir  ?  Who  dares  reply 
to  his  Judge  accusing  him  of  sin — I  always  have 
obeyed  this  law  ?  Who  dares  reply  to  his  God  re- 
quiring perfect  obedience  to  his  holy  law  from  this 
moment — I  will  do  it  ?  The  law,  moreover,  requires 
obedience  to  God,  and  to  no  other  authority.  Here  all 
self-righteous  men  are  utterly  at  fault.  They  regard 
conscientiousness  as  embracing  the  whole  of  man's  re- 
ligious nature.  But  conscience  is,  in  two  respects,  not 
designed  to  be  the  leading  faculty  of  the  mind.  It  is 
not  a  voluntary  faculty  ;  and,  therefore,  is  as  much  a 
mere  instinct  as  any  other  impulse.  And  it  is  neither 
a  being  to  be  supremely  loved,  nor  a  sovereign  to  be 


THE   TWO    SONS.  35t 

obeyed.  Being  merely  conscientious  is  the  religion  of 
the  best  men  who  know  not  God  and  Christ.  Deter- 
mining to  act  in  all  things  according  to  the  strictest 
rule  of  right,  is,  in  God's  family,  just  what  it  is  in  any 
human  family.  Suppose  a  son  determines  to  obey  his 
conscience.  Now,  if  he  means,  by  that,  to  love  and 
obey  his  father,  then  he  intends  right,  but  calls  it  by  a 
wrong  name.  If  he  means  any  thing  else  by  it,  his 
very  goodness  is  filial  disobedience.  As  some  men 
practise  and  commend  conscientiousness,  it  is  atheism. 
Tlie  starting-point  of  human  goodness  is  in  trusting, 
loving,  and  obeying  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Any  con- 
scientiousness, therefore,  which  does  not  begin  with 
that,  is  wholly  wrong,  because  it  is  a  compromise  on  a 
fundamental  point  of  duty  ;  and  intending  to  obey  con- 
science, but  not  God,  is  such  a  compromise. 

How  is  it  then  with  their  religion,  if  it  stands  thus 
with  their  morality  ?  Multitudes  of  well-informed  jdco- 
ple  live  their  lives  through  in  a  vital  delusion  as  to  the 
nature  and  essential  principles  of  Christ's  instructions, 
and  their  relations  to  religion.  They  regard  themselves 
however  as  quite  religious  ;  sutficiently  so  for  all  prac- 
tical and  eternal  purposes.  And  this  delusion  they 
practise  on  themselves  by, 

2.  Inventing  a  gospel  to  take  the  place  of  Chrisfs 
Gospel  /  just  as  others  siibstitute  their  own  law  for  his. 
In  Christ's  Gospel  there  is  a  full  recognition  of  the  law 
in  all  the  extent,  purity,  rigidness,  and  constancy  of  its 
demands.  Penitence  is  the  first  requirement  of  the 
Gospel ;  because  the  law  is  good,  and  we  all  have  dis- 
obeyed it.  A  broken  heart  is  the  sacrifice  it  requires, 
oecause  the  law  is  good,  and  we  are  bad.  Faith  in 
Christ  is  the  second  great  requirement  of  the  Gospel, 


258  LECTTJEE   XVII. 

because  we  liave  no  rigliteoiisness  that  can  honor  tlie 
law ;  and  we  must  present  to  the  law  another  right- 
eousness, which  is  made  over  to  us,  that  we  may  re- 
instate the  law  in  all  its  majesty  and  beauty  before  our 
own  consciences,  and  in  all  its  rightful  authority  before 
all  who  shall  see  us  acknowledged  as  God's  children, 
while  our  own  obedience  is  as  yet  very  imperfect, 
though  sincere.  But  generally  the  self-righteous  re- 
gard some  parts  of  God's  law  as  requiring  too  much  of 
them,  and  other  parts  as  superfluous.  They  cannot  say 
with  the  sacred  poet — "  I  esteem  all  thy  precepts  con- 
cerning all  things  to  be  right."  They  fail  also  to  re- 
cognize in  the  Gospel  its  full  acknowledgment  of  the 
righteousness  of  the  penalty  of  the  law.  JSTow  no  man 
is  religious  who  does  not  cordially  accept  and  obey  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  no  man  accepts  that  Gos- 
pel truly,  who  either  objects  to  the  threatenings  of  the 
law,  and  the  declarations  of  the  Scripture  concerning 
the  wrath  of  God  ;  or,  who  denies  his  own  guilty  ex- 
posure to  that  wrath.  Here  must  every  faithful  minis- 
ter of  Christ  take  his  position,  firm  and  inflexible. 
Men  may  conceive  of  a  Gospel  suited  to  their  fancies 
and  their  feelings.  But  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Clirist 
declares  that  he  came  to  save  the  lost.  He  flnds  us 
guilty  of  violating  the  law,  wicked  in  our  hearts  ;  and 
so,  ruined  and  helpless.  If  we  do  not  start  with  the 
Gospel  in  this  its  first  lesson,  let  us  not  pretend  that  we 
are  religious  in  any  thing  we  do  ;  for  if  we  were  Chris- 
tians on  such  terms,  we  should  be  Christians  without 
Christ. 

Tliey  fail  to  recognize  another  feature  of  the  Gospel : 

There  is  no  atonement  in  obedience.     The  struggle 

of  the  human  heart  is,  to  make  amends  for  its  trans- 


THE   TWO    SONS.  259 

gressions,  to  pay  its  moral  debt.  But  on  no  point  is 
the  Gospel  more  firm  than  on  the  utter  impossibility 
of  effecting  tliat.  Christ  made  a  full  atonement,  which 
is  ofi'ered  to  us,  with  all  the  advantages,  immunities, 
rights,  privileges  and  profits  that  may  pertain  to  it.  To 
accejjt  of  that  as  the  peace- offering  to  our  own  awakened 
and  threatening  consciences  ;  to  present  that  in  faith 
before  our  Judge  as  the  ground  of  our  complete  and 
eternal  forgiveness  ;  to  guard  with  a  jealous  care  our 
simple,  grateful  dependence  upon  Christ  as  our  atone- 
ment, our  mediator,  our  life ;  that  is  the  faith,  the  be- 
lieving on  which  the  Gospel  so  much  insists.  But  all 
self-righteous  j)ersons  aim  to  keep  their  accounts  with 
heaven  balanced  at  least,  if  not  always  somewhat  in 
their  own  favor,  by  the  mere  quality  and  quantity  of 
their  own  innocence  and  excellence. 

There  is  then  one  other  specimen  of  the  cases  which 
our  Saviour  intended  to  describe  by  the  son  who  said — 
"  I  go,  sir,  and  went  not."     It  is, 

3.  The  promise  of  future  ohedience  substituted  for 
jpresent  obedience.  In  this  case  there  is  a  clear  know- 
ledge and  full  acknowledgment  that  the  present  course 
of  life  is  wrong.  Tliere  is  also  an  acknowledgment 
that  another  is  right ;  and  instead  of  entering  imme- 
diately upon  that  course  of  repentance  and  obedience, 
there  is  a  promise  to  do  it  at  some  future,  undefined 
period.  The  whole  process  may  then  be  thus  described. 
The  father  says :  "  Son,  go  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard." 
The  son  replies  :  "  Father,  I  go,  some  time  hereafter." 
Then  this  son  sets  himself  down  as  an  obedient  child, 
who,  he  cannot  doubt,  enjoys  his  father's  approbation. 
If  any  one  regards  himself  as  under  the  absolute  law 
of  God,  and  is  aware  that  he  does  not  perfectly  obey 


260  LECTUEE  xvn. 

it,  lie  acts  like  the  second  son  when  he  defers  to  any 
future  day  the  beginning  of  a  perfect  obedience.  And 
he  displays  the  same  spirit,  who  knowing  that  it  is  vain 
to  pretend  to  obey  the  law,  and  that  we  can  be  saved 
only  by  complying  with  the  conditions  of  the  Gospel, 
says,  I  will  begin  at  some  future  time. 

Now  one  effect  of  all  these  com-ses  is,  uniformly, 
this  ;  the  person  is  satisfied  with  himself,  and  thinks  he 
has  taken  a  much  more  prudent  course  than  those  who 
openly  trample  on  the  law  of  God,  and  make  no  promise 
of  future  amendment.  And  they  are  strengthened  in 
this  conclusion  by  the  fact  that  outward  immorality 
and  bold  rejection  of  the  Gospel  are  not  only  bad,  but 
generally  seen  to  be  bad.  But,  dreadful  as  either  of 
them  is,  the  Saviour  means  to  teach,  in  this  parable, 
that 

II.  These  aee  the  most  DAjfGEBOtrs  forms  of  diso- 
bedience. 

This  will  be  manifest  when  we  consider, 

1.  How  they  insult  the  omniscience,  the  holiness,  and 
the  grace  of  God.  That  which  distinguishes  them  from 
all  other  persons  is,  that  while  others  do  not  pretend  to 
obey  God,  these  consider  their  disobedience  obedience. 
Open  vice  and  irreligion  do  not  appeal  to  an  omniscient 
God,  and  say,  thou  knowest  me,  and  knowest  that  I  am 
good.  They  neither  think  they  can  deceive  him,  nor 
ask  his  approbation  of  their  conduct.  But  those  of 
whom  we  are  speaking,  really  believe  either  that  God 
does  not  see  through  the  shallow  covering  of  their  pre- 
tensions ;  or  else,  that  such  goodness  as  theirs  is  pleas- 
Wig  to  His  holy  eye. 

Nor  do  the  openly  irreligious  reject  the  grace  of 


THE   TWO    SONS.  261 

God  and  all  its  provisions,  because  their  own  righteous- 
ness is  a  better  ground  of  recommendation  to  God  than 
the  righteousness  of  Christ.  But  all  who  think  they 
are  pleasing  God  by  obeying  some  other  law  than  his, 
by  performing  some  other  conditions  than  those  of  his 
Gospel,  or  by  promising  to  obey  his  Gospel  at  some 
future  time,  they  are  thus  mocking  and  insulting  the 
Holy  One  of  Israel.     Then,  moreover, 

2.  By  thus  quieting  their  consciences  they  make  their 
own  repentance  more  difficult  and  doubtful.  Follow 
the  Saviour  in  his  preaching-tours.  Mingle  with  those 
groups  of  astonished  listeners.  Here  we  have  an  op- 
portunity of  seeing  immoral  men  and  self-righteous 
men  brought  together  in  presence  of  the  Gospel.  While 
Christ  is  preaching  the  Gospel  and  offering  his  salva- 
tion to  men,  not  as  righteous,  but  as  sinners,  he  has 
publicans  and  sinners  forsaking  their  sins  to  find  a  Sa- 
viour. But  the  Pharisees  stand  aloof.  Tlie  sick  came 
to  the  Physician  ;  but  the  whole  had  no  need  of  him 
in  their  own  estimation.  The  rich  young  ruler  was  a 
specimen.  He  thought  he  had  kept  the  command- 
ments from  his  youth,  and  wondered  what  he  could 
yet  lack.  Alas  !  he  lacked  every  thing  ;  for  he  had  no 
sense  of  his  needing  Christ  more  than  money.  All 
his  goodness  had  but  nourished  his  pride. 

When  a  man  indulges  in  grosser  sins,  he  knows  he 
is  doing  wrong  ;  and  that  by  perseverance  in  them  he 
may  destroy  every  finer  feeling  of  his  nature,  and 
make  his  recovery  hopeless  ;  but  at  the  same  time  he 
is  constantly  enlisting  his  conscience  against  himself. 
But  when  one  has  brought  his  conscience  to  the  level 
of  his  life,  then  he  must  be  satisfied  with  himself.  The 
one  is  laying  up  material  which  conscience  may  em- 


I  j^^ 


2G2  LECTURE  xvn. 

ploy  against  him  ;  tlie  other  is  enlisting  his  conscience 
on  his  side.  No  man  ever  came  to  Christ  by  a  saving 
faith,  so  long  as  he  felt  that  he  was  complete  in  him- 
self. There  is,  therefore,  no  greater  fanlt  than  believ- 
ing ourselves  faultless.  And  while  immorality  cannot 
be  said  in  any  sense  to  be  j)referable  to  morality,  yet  it 
fAiows  how  great  an  evil  is  a  self-righteous  goodness 
that  is  even  a  greater  hindrance  in  coming  to  Christ, 
than  immorality  itself.  It  resembles  the  difference  be- 
tween a  disease  concealed  in  the  system,  yet  working 
on  toward  death,  and  a  disease  bursting  forth  in  painful 
and  loathsome  forms.  Tliey  are  both  dreadful ;  but 
the  former  is  the  least  hopeful.  The  publicans  and 
harlots  w^ill  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  while  Phari- 
sees will  perish  in  their  imagined  goodness. 

Even  religious  sensibility,  valuable  as  it  is,  may 
become  a  dangerous  snare.  Those  who  have  quick  re- 
ligious sensibilities,  are  apt  to  become  satisfied  with 
enjoying  the  luxury  of  emotion.  God  approaches  them 
in  his  commands.  Dnty  is  laid  before  them  ;  it  is  per- 
fectly clear  to  them.  "  I  ought  to  be  this  ;  I  ought  to 
do  that.  I  have  lived  in  great  negligence  of  my  duty. 
It  is  alarming  to  be  in  such  a  condition.  God  is  my 
Creator,  and  has  an  unquestionable  claim  on  my  obe- 
dience, and  all  his  comnjandments  are  perfectly  reason- 
able. It  is  perfectly  clear  that  I  ought  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian. I  have  no  excuse  for  neglecting  to  be."  Thus 
the  consciences  of  many  are  quickened.  Thus  they 
reason  every  time  Christ,  the  Judgment,  Death  and 
Eternity  are  brought  to  mind.  But  there  they  stoj?. 
Tliere  they  liave  been  accustomed  to  stop,  now  for 
many  years.  They  feel,  feel  even  to  trembling,  at 
times.     And  nothing  would  alarm  them  more  than  the 


■1fc.* 


THE   TWO    SONS.  263 

loss  of  that  feeling.  But  that  is  the  round  they  run 
every  time  their  consciences  are  aroused.  Conscience, 
which  was  given  to  stimulate  the  active  powers,  is  now 
indulged  as  a  mere  sensibility.  Tlie  voice  of  God  is 
heard — "  Son,  go  work  in  my  vineyard."  The  reply  for 
ever  is — "  I  ought  to  go."  And  there  the  matter  ends. 
The  religious  feeli  ng  has  come  to  form  a  resting-place 
to  the  soul.  Sometimes  other  religious  sensibilities  are 
brought  into  exercise.  The  kindness  of  God  ;  the  love- 
liness of  Christ ;  the  value  of  God's  favor  ;  the  blessed- 
ness of  dying  in  the  Lord  ;  may  awaken  in  the  soul  an 
intense  desire.  Christ  says  :  "  Son,  go  work  in  my 
vineyard  to-day."  The  reply  is  :  "■  Yes,  sir,  I  wish  to 
go."  This  state  of  feeling  may  be  produced  by  an 
afflictive  stroke  of  Providence.  The  heart  bleeds, 
trembles  and  turns  to  its  neglected  God,  and  says  :  "  I 
want  to  be  a  Christian."  But  it  is  not,  and  will  not 
be  one. 

Thus  the  Gospel  is  rejected,  either  under  the  pre- 
text of  obedience  to  the  law,  or  with  a  self-flattering 
promise  of  meeting  its  requirements  at  some  future 
day. 

It  may  here  occur  to  some  one  to  inquire  whether 
this  parable  does  not  require  doing  instead  of  believing, 
obedience  rather  than  faith.  If  they  will  candidly 
reflect  on  two  passages  of  the  ScrijDtures,  they  will  be 
satisfactorily  answered.  In  the  one  (John  vi.  29)  they 
will  see  that  believing  in  Christ  is  the  great  act  of  obe- 
dience required  by  the  Gospel.  In  the  other  (Kom. 
vi.  1-8)  they  will  see  that  the  faith  in  Cln-ist  which 
the  Gospel  requires,  secures  the  sanctification  as  well 
as  the  justification  of  him  who  exercises  it.     And  the 


264  LECTURE    XVII. 

difference  between  the  obedience  of  the  self-righteons 
and  that  of  the  believer  is,  that  the  one  has  no  obedi- 
ence at  all,  for  he  has  no  love  ;  the  other  is  constrained 
by  "  the  love  of  Christ "  to  love  in  return.  And  this 
feeble  love  is  the  commencement  of  true  obedience. 

This  evasive  spirit  may  even  follow  a  person  into 
the  Church.  Nay,  it  is  found  in  the  visible  Church 
as  well  as  without  its  bounds.  It  is  indeed  one  of  the 
great  sins  of  the  Church  ;  encumbering  the  body  with 
a  large  number  whose  religion  is  a  name,  without 
reality,  without  life,  without  any  efficiency  in  pro- 
moting spiritual  religion.  Tlieir  example  and  spirit 
are  infectious.  If  they  are  formalists,  they  hinder 
those  who  would  be  spiritual.  If  they  love  the  world, 
they  are  a  grief  to  those  who  have  forsaken  it ;  and  a 
stumbling-block  to  those  who  would  forsake  it,  but  for 
their  spirit  and  example. 

It  prevents  the  efficient  action  of  the  Church.  Christ 
has  a  vineyard ;  and  his  desire  is,  that  it  shall  be  culti- 
vated. He  therefore  appoints  to  each  one  the  care  of 
a  section,  and  says  to  him,  "  Son,  go  work  in  my  vine- 
yard to-day."  This  is  a  working  universe.  The  idle 
are  among  Satan's  best  workmen.  But  if  any  one 
neglects  the  work  assigned  him,  then  some  sacred  in- 
terest suffers.  A  vine  is  waiting  for  his  care.  K  he 
neglects  it,  no  one  else  will  care  for  it.  It  may  be  his 
own  heart ;  or,  some  evil  in  the  Church  or  world  w  liich 
he  can  help  to  remove  ;  or,  some  good  interest  to  be 
built  up.  But  these  promisers  that  say  so  readily,  "  I 
go.  Lord,"  find  the  work  sometimes  very  rough.  There 
are  in  the  Lord's  vineyard  thorns  and  briers,  mud, 
rocks,  weeds,  moles,  foxes,  insects,  mildews,  frosts,  and 


THE   TWO    SONS.  265 

winds  !  What  a  world  is  this  then  to  work  in  !  And 
it  is  constant  work.  Every  day  something  is  to  be 
done  ;  and  so  they  neglect  it ;  yet  see  what  is  at  stake. 
The  king's  revenue  ;  their  own  living  ;  others'  life  ! 

Yes,  the  consequences  of  this  spirit  of  substituting 
something  for  obedience  to  Christ  are  lamentable,  even 
to  true  Christians,  just  so  far  as  they  indulge  in  it.  It 
produces  that  want  of  symmetry  of  character  which 
now  hinders  Zion  from  putting  on  her  beautiful  gar- 
ments. Where  do  you  find  a  Christian  that  is  not 
doing  his  Lord's  work  imperfectly  ;  all  fail  of  obedience 
somewhere.  Some  are  very  fervent  in  their  religion, 
but  equally  so  in  speaking  unkind  and  uncharitable 
words.  Some  are  diligent  in  business  ;  but  that  is  not 
accompanied  with  being  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the 
Lord.  Some  are  better  in  church  than  on  'change,  in 
the  family  or  the  workshop.  Some  will  be  very  much 
like  Christ  in  his  meekness,  but  unlike  him  in  his  dili- 
gence in  doing  good.  Some  imitate  his  energy,  but 
overlook  his  humility.  Some  are  very  active  ;  but  not 
prayerful,  as  he  was.  Some  have  his  social  affections, 
but  not  his  heavenly-mindedness  in  exercising  them ; 
some,  his  benevolent  regard  for  the  body,  but  not  his 
compassion  for  the  soul.  Some  have  his  love  to  good 
men,  but  not  his  yearning,  condescending,  self-sacri- 
ficing love  to  the  abandoned. 

Now,  in  all  this,  my  brethren,  each  of  us  is  suffering 
a  serious  loss.  It  limits  our  communion  with  him.  It 
hinders  our  usefulness  to  others.  It  deprives  us  of  the 
honor  of  laboring  for  him.  There  is  kept,  in  his  house 
above,  a  complete  list  of  all  the  laborers.  He  has  per- 
mitted a  few  of  those  names  to  be  copied,  as  samples, 
into  the  book  of  instructions  for  laborers  sent  down 
12 


266  LECTUBE  xvn. 

here  ;  that  we  may  be  animated  by  their  example  and 
their  honorable  rewards.  Moses'  name  is  there.  He 
was  a  great  workman  ;  faithful  in  all  his  stewardship. 
Nehemiah's,  Paul's,  and  many  others.  But  if  our  obe- 
dience is  only  in  words,  our  names  are  not  inscribed  in 
that  honorable  list.  Tliere  are  high  wages,  too,  in  this 
service  :  God's  love  ;  angels'  aid  ;  Christ's  sympathy  ; 
the  Holy  Spirit's  aiding  power  and  light ;  Heaven  at 
last ;  and  souls  saved  through  our  instrumentality  !  But 
what  a  loss  are  idlers  then  suffering  !  And  besides  the 
loss,  how  pernicious  and  dangerous  is  the  habit  they 
are  contracting  !  Dangerous,  because  it  deceives  ;  per- 
nicious, because  it  is  a  rejection  of  the  Gospel  under 
the  guise  of  treating  it  respectfully.  It  answers  to  the 
command,  with  good  feelings  with  the  promise,  "  I  go, 
sir ; "  with  forms  of  religion ;  with  good  wishes  and 
good  resolutions. 

And  what  can  be  said  of  its  eifects,  on  Christ  him- 
self? One  class  indeed  insults  him  by  the  contempt- 
uous reply  to  his  command  :  "  I  will  not."  But  the 
other  says  :  "I  go  ; "  meaning  at  the  same  time  the 
same  thing  as  the  others  !  This  grieves  his  heart ;  this 
must  at  length  exhaust  his  patience. 

I  can  suggest  one,  and  but  one  remedy  for  this 
dreadful  evil.  It  is  :  an  immediate  cessation  from  the 
repetition  of  this  act.  Hear  now  the  call  of  Christ 
with  an  honest  heart.  It  is  a  call  of  authority,  of 
affection,  of  urgent  benevolence.  "  To-day,"  it  says. 
It  is  special,  and  it  is  tender  ;  it  is  directed  to  you  per- 
sonally :  "  Son,  go  work  in  my  vineyard."  There  is 
enough  for  all,  and  a  specific  employment  for  each. 
Hear  the  call  with  an  honest  heart. 

Do  you  inquire  what  the  work  is  ?     It  is  not  merely 


THE   TWO    SONS.  267 

to  feel,  to  be  convinced  of  sin,  to  become  extremely  re- 
ligious, to  wish  well  to  religion,  to  purpose  well  for 
yom'self ;  but  it  is  coming  to  Christ  as  to  one  that  loves 
you  with  iniinite  love,  who  alone  can  save  you ;  who 
desires  and  requires  you  to  seek  his  glory,  and  to  do 
his  will  above  all  other  things.  Specifically,  you  are 
to  live  in  him,  conform  your  spirit  to  his,  and  use  all 
your  powers  subordinately  to  his  plans. 

Do  it  now,  and  do  it  constantly  ;  begin  "  To-day P 


# 


LECTUEE   XYIIl. 

THE  GREAT  SUPPEE  ;  OR,  THE  INVITATION  REFUSED. 

Luke  xiv.  16-24: — "  A  certain  man  made  a  great  supper,  and  bade 
many :  and  sent  his  servant  at  supper  time  to  say  to  them  that  were  bidden, 
Come ;  for  all  things  are  now  ready.  And  they  all  with  one  consent  began 
to  make  excuse.  The  first  said  unto  him,  I  have  bought  a  piece  of  ground, 
and  I  must  needs  go  and  see  it :  I  pray  thee  have  me  excused.  And 
another  said,  I  have  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen,  and  I  go  to  prove  them  :  I 
pray  thee  have  me  excused.  And  another  said,  I  have  married  a  wife,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  come.  So  that  servant  came,  and  shewed  his  lord  these 
things.  Then  the  master  of  the  house  being  angry  said  to  his  servant.  Go 
out  quickly  into  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  and  bring  in  hither  the 
poor,  and  the  maimed,  and  the  halt,  and  the  blind.  And  the  servant 
said,  Lord,  it  is  done  as  thou  hast  commanded,  and  yet  there  is  room. 
And  the  Lord  said  unto  the  servant.  Go  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges, 
and  compel  them  to  come  in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled.  For  I  say 
unto  you,  That  none  of  those  men  which  were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my 
Bupper." 

The  Lord  has  seen  fit  to  devote  yet  another  parable 
to  this  fearful  wickedness  of  rejecting  his  overtures  of 
mercy.  There  have  been  many  volumes  published 
under  the  title  of  Table-Talk.  But  if  one  should  be 
published,  entitled :  Our  Redeemer's  Table-Talk,  it 
would  differ  strikingly  from  most  others,  not  only  in 
the  wisdom  of  his  remarks,  but  also  in  manifesting  his 
supreme  desire  to  benefit  his  hearers.  This  was  a  part 
of  a  conversation  at  the  table  where  he  was  a  guest ; 


THE   GREAT   6UPPEK.  269 

and  was  suggested  by  a  remark  of  some  person  pres- 
ent; probably  a  Pharisee,  who  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  should  be  included  in  the  number  of  the 
"  blessed  "  who  should  "  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom  of 
God."  To  this  remark  the  Lord  replied  in  the  words 
of  this  parable  ;  in  which  he  intended  to  show  this  per- 
son and  all  who  heard  his  words,  that  they  who  do  not 
sit  down  to  "  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom  of  God,"  will 
have  only  themselves  to  condemn.  In  the  parable  of 
the  Two  Sons  we  had  a  covert  refusal  of  obedience  to 
God's  commands.  Here  we  have  open  refusals  to  com- 
ply with  his  invitations,  palliated  by  excuses.  The  first 
application  of  the  story  is,  doubtless,  to  the  Pharisees, 
who  had  heard  the  invitations  of  John  the  Baptist,  and 
the  Saviour.  The  Master  was  angry  with  their  wicked 
rejection  of  his  invitation.  The  anger  of  Christ  seems 
never  to  have  been  called  forth  but  by  the  self-right- 
eous and  hypocritical  effrontery  of  those  men.  The 
second  invitation  was  given  by  the  apostles  in  the 
streets  and  lanes  of  Jerusalem  and  Judea.  Then  the 
messengers  were  sent  to  "  the  highways  and  hedges  " 
of  the  Gentiles. 

This  scene  is  re-enacted  in  every  period  of  modern 
history.  The  same  kinds  of  excuses  are  still  offered  to 
conscience,  and  to  the  Saviour,  for  refusing  to  accei3t 
salvation  on  his  conditions.  One  pleads  the  claims  of 
business,  and  another  the  claims  of  society,  or  the  diffi- 
culties arising  from  his  social  position. 

Men  still  refuse  to  come  to  God's  feast ;  and  give 
their  refusal  as  decent  an  appearance  as  they  can.  But 
the  Master  of  the  feast  makes  nothing  of  their  excuses  ; 
indignantly  regarding  the  refusal  as  a  refusal.  That  is 
the  point  of  supreme  moment  in  this  case ;  the  refusal 


270  LECTUEE  xvin. 

to  come  to  the  feast  of  God's  grace  ;  which  is  not 
diminished,  but  aggravated  by  the  reasons  assigned 
for  it.     Our  subject  is,  therefore, 

GodJ's  inmtaiion  rejected^  with  apologies.  And  I 
call  you,  first,  to  see  when  and  how  men  refuse  God's 
invitation. 

I.  The  refusal  to  come  to  the  feast  of  salva- 
tion. 

Some  regard  the  Scriptures  as  merely  instructive  ; 
some,  as  a  general  directory  to  the  various  duties  of 
life.  But  this  parable  shows  the  Saviour's  view  of  the 
"Word  of  God.     It  declares  that, 

1.  There  is  a  feast  provided^  and  that  by  a  very 
wealthy  person  ;  and  on  a  scale  of  great  magnificence. 
A  feast  is  designed  to  entertain  our  social  feelings,  by 
bringing  together  persons  likely  to  be  agreeable  to  each 
other ;  and  to  supply  our  bodily  wants  in  the  most 
agreeable  mannei*. 

God  has  thus  provided,  on  the  most  magnificent 
scale,  for  man's  personal  and  social  necessities.  These 
we  shall  notice  again  more  definitely. 

2.  An  invitation  is  sent  forth.  ISTo  one  can  go 
properly  to  such  an  entertainment,  but  on  an  invita- 
tion. To  invite  to  this  feast  has  been  one  great  part  of 
the  employment  of  God's  servants  in  every  age.  And 
the  parable  gives  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  these  invi- 
tations. First,  they  were  confined  to  one  favored  na- 
tion. "When  they  treated  it  with  utter  indifierence, 
then  the  message  went  forth  to  the  nations  whom  they 
despised  as  "  poor,  maimed,  halt,  and  blind."  And 
then  to  show  the  generosity,  condescension,  and  ear- 
nestness of  the  Master  of  the  house,  the  servants  are 


THE    GKEAT    SUPPER.  271 

commanded  to  go  and  search  out  the  most  remote  and 
the  most  degraded  persons  they  could  find. 

The  invitation  is  put  in  very  various  forms  ;  always 
meaning  to  induce  the  same  act  on  the  part  of  the  in- 
vited, and  to  proffer  the  same  blessings  on  the  part  of 
the  inviter,  "When  Jesus  says,  "  Come  unto  me  ye 
that  labor,"  he  invites  man  to  find  an  eternal  peace  to 
his  soul,  by  a  penitent  confidence  in  Christ,  and  an 
aftectionate  obedience  to  him.  It  is  a  distinct  offer  of 
eternal  life,  on  his  part ;  to  be  accepted  by  a  distinct 
act  on  the  part  of  him  who  needs  that  life.  To  repent 
of  sin  and  believe  in  Christ,  is  going  to  the  feast ;  not 
to  repent,  nor  to  commit  the  soul  to  him,  is  refusing  to 
go  to  the  supper. 

Now  let  us  see  why  the  Master  of  the  house  was 
angry  ;  or,  in  other  words, 

II.   Why  God  kegakds  himself  ixstjlted  by  this 

REFUSAL,  AND  BY  THE  VARIOUS  APOLOGIES  THAT  ATTEMPT 
TO   JUSTIFY   IT.  ■^^..    ->. 

1.  It  is  a  contempt  of  our  own  highest  good,  and  of 
God''s  richest  'bounties.  God  is  dealing  with  man  on 
two  different  principles ;  by  confounding  which,  men 
are  perpetually  making  most  fatal  mistakes.  There  are 
blessings  he  bestows,  without  any  reference  to  our 
treatment  of  him  or  them.  He  sends  his  rain  upon 
the  earth  for  the  just  and  the  unjust.  To  get  enough 
bread  you  have  only  to  be  a  good  farmer,  merchant, 
artificer,  or  laborer.  To  become  rich,  you  need  not 
come  to  Christ.  But  there  are  blessings  suited  to  the 
profoundest  necessities  and  the  noblest  capacities  of 
your  being,  which  can  be  had  only  by  accepting  this 
invitation.     We  certainly  want  food  and  raiment,  and 


272  LECTUEE   XVIII. 

money,  and  shelter,  and  a  thousand  things  beside.  But 
we  all  have  wants  that  lie  inHnitely  deeper  in  our  being, 
and  affect  us  in  our  vast  connections  with  the  universe 
of  God,  and  with  eternity.  Tliese  wants  unsupplied, 
the  riches  of  the  earth  and  the  glory  of  an  archangel 
could  not  satisfy  us ;  we  remain  poor,  poor  indeed. 
Our  great  necessities  may  be  comprised  in  three  classes  : 
we  want  a  radical  change  in  our  relations,  in  our  char- 
acters, in  our  prospects.  Take  our  relations  to  the 
goverimient  and  law  of  our  Maker.  They  are  terrible. 
Hear  one  utterance  :  "  Cursed  is  every  one  that  con- 
tinueth  not  in  all  things  written  in  the  law,  to  do 
them."  Then  hear  another :  "  There  is  no  man  that 
liveth,  and  sinneth  not."  Now  we  may  hide  that  law, 
that  government,  that  God,  that  sin  from  our  eyes,  as 
one  may  paint  his  pallid  cheeks  to  hide  the  signs  of 
wasting  disease.  But  there  it  is  ;  sleeping,  waking,  at 
home  or  abroad,  in  the  shop  or  the  sanctuary,  that  law 
ever  holding  its  tremendous  curse  over  man.  The  rela- 
tions of  every  impenitent  person  to  God  are  such,  that 
if  he  could  see  them,  he  would  give  no  sleep  to  his 
eyes  nor  slumber  to  his  eyelids.  His  relations  to 
Providence  are  such  as  would  make  him  ashamed  to 
receive  another  favor  if  he  rightly  understood  them. 
God  is  supporting  him  as  you  support  a  base  and  dissi- 
pated son  ;  without  complacency,  without  satisfaction  ; 
only  hoping  he  may  possibly  repent.  His  relations  to 
Satan  are  fearful ;  beause  he  is  a  servant  pleasing 
Satan ;  is  deceived  by  him,  and  enchained  by  him. 
His  relations  to  the  Gospel  are  painful ;  because  it  in- 
creases his  responsibility  by  presenting  duties  which  he 
only  neglects  ;  by  revealing  the  love  of  God  only  to  be 
spurned  by  him.     His  relations  to  Death,  to  Judgment, 


Tllli   GKEAT   SUPPEK.  273 

and  to  Hell,  are  fearful.  Is  it  wonderful  that  God  him- 
self should  be  affected  by  our  miserable  condition  ; 
and  that  when  he  has  made  a  provision  for  our  de- 
liverance, which  needs  but  the  addition  of  our  own 
compliance  to  make  it  fully  ours,  that  he  should  ear- 
nestly desire  us  to  comply  ? 

Now  the  Gospel  is  a  provision  for  onr  wants,  as  it 
proposes  to  change  all  these  terrible  relations.  Tlie 
moment  we  accept  its  oifers  the  law  ceases  to  curse  ; 
the  Gospel  becomes  a  covenant  full  of  promises ; 
Christ,  a  Saviour ;  God,  a  reconciled  father ;  Satan 
is  vanquished.  Death  is  the  beginning  of  life  ;  judg- 
ment is  coronation ;  hell  is  extinguished  for  you ; 
earthly  afflictions  come ;  but  their  character  is  changed ; 
property,  friends,  health  may  forsake  ;  but  your  cove- 
nant with  God  will  remain.  Even  that  timid  child  who 
startles  at  the  thought  of  death  may  come  to  this  feast. 
She  will  find  its  guests  to  be  the  conquerors  of  death, 
who,  while  eating  bread  which  angels  never  tasted,  en- 
tertain each  other  with  such  songs  as  bacchanalians 
never  could  utter, — "  O  death,  Avhere  is  thy  sting  !  " 

Yes,  the  guests  at  this  feast,  once  proscribed  rebels, 
become  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  King.  All 
heaven  is  leagued  with  them,  for  the  King  of  heaven 
is  now  reconciled  to  them. 

With  this  change  in  our  relations,  we  need  equally 
a  change  in  our  characters,  our  hearts,  ourselves.  Oh  ! 
who  of  us  has  never  sighed  as  he  looked  up  to  the  lofty 
heights  of  Jesus'  character ;  nay,  even  to  the  purity 
of  angels,  and  then  tm-ned  his  eye  in  upon  himself! 
I  pity  the  man  who  has  ;  I  tremble  for  him  who  has 
not.  Mankind  are  divided  into  the  self-complacent 
and  the  self-abhorring.  To  the  former  the  Gospel  has 
12* 


274  LECTUKE    XVIII. 

no  charm,  except  in  tlie  incidental  portions  which,  aa 
nndei'stood  by  them,  flatter  their  vanity.  Tliey  love 
those  features  of  its  lofty  morality  which  they  think 
they  find  reflected  in  their  characters.  But  he  that 
knows  himself  as  God  knows  him,  sighs  and  despairs 
as  he  recognizes  the  selfishness,  the  ungodliness,  the 
spiritual  insensibility  that  prevail  there.  In  our  un- 
converted state  we  found  no  love  to  God,  no  sympathy 
with  the  Saviour,  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  saints  of  God, 
the  Holy  Scrij^tures.  We  were  weary  of  praying  ;  we 
saw  ourselves  unfit  for  heaven  ;  unfit  to  associate  with 
Gabriel  and  his  companions  ;  with  patriarchs  and  apos- 
tles !  And  does  God  offer  in  the  Gospel  to  change  our 
hearts,  our  very  characters  ?  Yes,  this  is  precisely  the 
blessing  promised.  "  Behold,  I  will  sprinkle  clean 
water  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean ;  I  will  put  my 
laws  into  their  mind,  and  write  them  in  their  hearts  ;  a 
new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I 
put  within  you."  He  then  that  accepts  this  invitation 
becomes  a  new  being ;  not  perfected  in  an  hour,  but 
sanctified  perfectly  at  the  end.  The  Saviour  says : 
"  First,  the  blade  ;  then  the  ear ;  then  the  full  corn 
in  the  ear." 

"We  equally  want  a  change  in  our  prospects.  This 
is  involved  in  the  others.  Our  relations  are  changed, 
our  hearts  are  changed ;  therefore  the  future  of  time, 
and  the  future  of  eternity  is  changed  to  us.  See  the 
contrast.  Let  us  make  out  two  inventories  and  com- 
pare them.  If  you  remain  away  from  this  feast,  there  is 
progressive  sin  ;  selfish  labors  and  enjoyment ;  disobe- 
dience to  God  ;  a  death  of  stuj)idity,  or  one  of  despair  ; 
the  curse  of  the  Judge ;  hell.     If  you  come,  there  is 


THE    GREAT   SUPPEK,  2'J5 

progressive  holiness  ;  usefulness  ;  obedience  ;  peace  or 
triumph  ;  his  approbation  ;  heaven,  eternal  heaven  ! 

Here  are  some  of  the  reasons  of  God's  earnestness. 
There  are  more.  Besides  what  so  directly  concerns 
us  as  individuals,  there  are  social  arrangements  most 
imj)ortant  to  us.  A  feast  is  not  a  mere  enjoyment  of 
what  is  eaten  and  drunk  ;  it  is  also  a  fellowship  of  kin- 
dred spirits.  Here  is  a  glorious  company.  In  accept- 
ing the  invitation,  we  of  course  leave,  in  a  very  im- 
portant sense,  all  those  who  do  not  accept  it.  This  is 
often  a  severe  trial.  But  we  may  be  sure  of  this,  that 
no  companionship  would  make  us  blessed  in  the  future 
world,  that  is  not  founded  upon  mutual  love  to  God. 
Whomsoever  we  leave,  we  come  to  the  best  society  of 
earth  and  heaven,  the  elite  of  the  universe,  the  princes 
and  nobles  of  God's  kingdom,  the  sages  of  the  Church ; 
the  heroes  of  God's  wars ;  the  architects  of  Zion  ;  the 
fellowship  of  the  martyrs,  the  apostles,  "  the  general 
assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born,  whose  names  are 
written  in  heaven ; "  the  noblest,  the  loveliest  spirits 
the  world  has  ever  seen  ;  God's  elect,  for  whom  angels 
and  archangels  have  watched  and  fought.  Yes,  here  is 
a  holy  company ;  and  the  King  at  the  head  of  the  feast. 
The  music  of  the  entertainment  is  performed  by  the 
harpers  and  singers  of  the  eternal  city. 

God,  my  friends,  God  our  Maker,  our  Redeemer, 
wants  us  to  come  in,  because  it  is  so  joyous,  so  serene- 
ly blessed  to  be  at  that  banquet. 

And  as  we  are  assured  by  the  provider,  every  thing 
is  in  profusion.  When  the  millions  of  our  race  shall 
be  all  seated,  there  will  be  room  and  provision  for  as 
many  millions  more.  Here  is  the  outpouring  of  divine 
goodness.     The  love  of  God  here  exercises  and  exhibits 


270  LECTUKE    XVIII. 

itself.  Here  are  given  to  us  exceeding  great  and 
precious  promises.  Here  are  the  bread  that  cometh 
down  from  heaven ;  the  waters,  and  the  wines  of 
heaven  ;  fruits  of  the  promised  land.  Nay,  love  itself 
is  the  costly  provision  of  this  banquet ;  and  that  love  is 
declared  to  be  unsearchable  in  its  dimensions,  inex- 
haustible in  its  resources.  Can  there  then  be  any  room 
to  question  whether  a  cause,  a  sufficient  cause  exists, 
for  God  himself  earnestly  to  invite  us  to  this  ban- 
quet ! 

"What  is  man's  refusal  then,  but  a  contempt  for  his 
own  highest  good,  and  God's  richest  provision  for  his 
necessities  ?     This  refusal  moreover  involves, 

2.  A  contempt  of  the  kindness  of  God  exjpi^essed  in 
the  provision^  and  in  the  invitation.  The  whole  pro- 
vision was  spontaneous.  No  necessity  compelled  our 
beneficent  Creator  to  make  it.  No  demands  of  justice 
held  him  to  it.  No  urgency  on  our  part  constrained 
him.  It  is  the  j)urest  expression  of  love  that  God  proba- 
bly ever  made ;  that  angels,  men,  or  devils  ever  wit- 
nessed. To  look  on  it,  and  be  unmoved,  is  to  despise 
the  very  heart  of  God  ;  the  tenderest,  deepest,  most  pa- 
ternal of  his  affections. 

It  was  more  than  spontaneous ;  it  was  a  costly  pro- 
vision. How  much  it  cost,  I  do  not  know.  Gabriel 
does  not  know.  I  hope  we  may  hereafter  confer  with 
him  upon  it ;  and  for  ever  be  getting  grander  and 
profounder  conceptions  of  the  cost  of  this  feast.  Yet 
we  shall  never  be  able  to  compute  it.  We  only  know 
that  nothing  but  God's  love  could  have  made  such  an 
expenditure  for  the  good  of  such  a  creature  as  man. 

And  we  see  in  the  whole  history  of  this  invitation 
an  expression  of  the  earnestness  of  the  Master  of  the 


THE   GKEAT   SUPPER. 


277 


lioiisc.  Tlie  feast  required  a  gradual  preparation. 
Great  principles  are  involved  in  saving  sinners,  with 
wliich  something  more  tlum  mere  creative  power  has 
to  do.  And  as  the  preparation  advances,  the  invitation 
is  spread  over  a  broader  field.  JSToah  and  Enoch  and 
Lot  addressed  it  to  their  neighbors.  Tlien  a  nation  re- 
ceived it.  To  them  for  long  centuries  a  race  of  messen- 
gers was  sent,  perpetually  entreating  them  to  accept 
of  God's  salvation.  Isaiah  cries,  "Ho  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come  je  to  the  w^aters.  And  he  that  hath 
no  money ;  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy 
wine  and  milk  without  money  and  without  price. 
Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is 
good ;  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself  in  fatness." 
Then,  when  the  feast  was  fully  prepared  ;  the  message 
was  despatched  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  And  to  this 
day,  the  messengers  are  still  acting  under  this  commis- 
sion ;  "  Go  ye  unto  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gos- 
pel to  every  creature."  This  w^orld-wide  extent  of  the 
invitation  shows  the  earnestness  of  the  inviters.  So 
does  the  frequent  repetition  of  it.  It  lies  in  every  part 
of  the  Bible ;  and  that  is  going  with  increasing  ra- 
pidity throughout  the  world.  The  preachers  are  mul- 
tiplying ;  and  they  are,  every  Sabbath  and  oftener,  re- 
peating it  to  men.  Then  the  earnestness  of  the  mes- 
sengers shows  the  same  thing.  Not  now  to  select  those 
men  who  most  fulfil  their  mission,  I  look  at  two  of  the 
messengers.  One  was  the  Lord  himself.  And  it  is  to 
the  laboriousness,  the  tenderness,  the  tears,  the  words 
of  Jesus  I  would  point,  to  show  that  God  is  earnest  in 
giving  this  invitation.  "  Compel  them  to  come  in," 
are  the  words  which  he  represents  the  lord  of  the  feast 
as  using  concerning  the  invited.     And  the  reason  he 


278  LECTUEE    XVIII. 

assigns,  is,  "  That  my  house  may  be  filled."  "  All 
things  are  ready,"  he  says.  "  Come  mito  me  all 
ye  that  labor."  In  the  last,  that  great  day  of  the  feast, 
Jesus  stood  and  cried,  saying,  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let 
him  come  unto  me  and  drink." 

I  point  you  likewise  to  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  urges 
home  upon  the  hearts  of  men  this  invitation,  with  an 
earnestness,  to  which  each  of  us  perhaps  can  bear 
witness. 

Can  any  doubt  that  God  is  gratified  when  men  ac- 
cept his  invitations  !  Look  at  the  father  of  the  Prodi- 
gal Son.  Does  not  God  rejoice  over  his  guests  ?  Can 
any  doubt  that  he  is  grieved,  nay,  insulted  by  a  refusal ! 
"  Oh  that  my  people  had  hearkened  unto  me,"  is  his 
language.  "  Oh  Jerusalem,  that  thou  hadst  known  in 
this  thy  day  the  things  that  belong  to  thy  peace."  I 
have  called,  and  ye  refused  ;  I  also  will  laugh  at  your 
calamity."  "  The  master  of  the  house  was  angry ^'' 
Jesus  says,  at  the  refusal. 

Here  then  are  evidences  abundant,  of  the  earnest 
sincerity  with  which  men  are  invited  to  the  Gospel- 
feast.     He  seeks  to  gratify  his  love  in  our  happiness. 

With  what  emotions  then  should  we  tm-n  from  this 
survey  of  God's  kindness  to  contemplate  man's  indiflfer- 
ence  and  careless  refusal !  But  does  man  refuse  to  be 
a  guest  at  such  a  feast ;  reject  the  invitation  from  such 
a  source,  and  cast  away  such  blessings  ?  All  that  is 
true.  And  this  parable  is  designed  to  call  our  atten- 
tion to  the  dreadtul  fact ;  and  to  show,  moreover,  that 
to  this  insult  of  refusal,  uaan  adds, 

3.  That  of  vindicating  his  refusal  hy  frivolons 
ajpologies.  Some  men  refuse  this  invitation,  from  sheer 
indifterence  ;  others,  from  indecision.     To  accept  God's 


THE   GREAT   SUPPEE.  279 

invitation,  we  must  prize  the  blessings  he  offers,  at 
something  of  their  relative,  if  not  their  absolute  value. 
Every  thing  must  yield  to  the  duty  of  going  to  the 
feast.  In  other  words,  to  accept  the  salvation  offered 
in  the  Gospel,  we  must  see  its  supreme  importance,  and 
cordially  comply  with  its  conditions.  But  some  find 
its  gracious  offers  awaken  not  the  slightest  desires  in 
their  heart.  Such  persons  do  not  offer  any  excuse. 
Neither  fear  of  the  wrath  of  God,  nor  desire  of  his  favor ; 
neither  a  view  of  their  own  deformity  or  the  Redeem- 
er's excellence ;  draw  them,  in  the  least  degree,  toward 
him ;  therefore  they  simply  pass  the  whole  by,  as  a 
matter  of  no  moment  to  them.  Others,  however,  feel 
both  the  responsibility  and  the  privilege  that  invitation 
produces.  And  yet,  not  yielding  to  it,  they  must 
frame  some  reason  plausible  to  themselves,  and  to 
others,  without  much  reference  to  God's  opinion  of  it. 
We  accordingly  see  that  such  persons,  in  order  to  jus- 
tify themselves,  invent  excuses,  which  they  must  know 
do  not  satisfy  God.  Probably  no  one  directly  admits 
that  he  is  refusing  the  invitation  of  God  ;  and  yet  in 
doing  it,  there  is  such  a  consciousness  of  wrong  that 
some  plausible  reason  must  be  pleaded.  It  may  be  of 
incalculable  value  to  such  persons  to  have  their  apolo- 
gies distinctly  held  to  their  own  view ;  and  to  see 
them  in  their  true  light,  stripped  of  the  illusions  of  a 
deceitful  heart.  The  men  invited  to  the  feast,  did  not 
make  a  direct  refusal.  They  set  duty  against  compli- 
ance. They  were  not  going  to  the  feast ;  that  was  the 
settled  decision.  Then  the  next  consideration  was,  what 
to  do  with  the  invitation.  And  in  each  case  there  was 
a  reason  given  for  refusing  it.  If  it  had  been  a  good 
reason,  then  their  conduct  would  have  been  reasonable ; 


280  LECTURE   XVIII. 

but  as  it  was  not  in  either  case,  therefore  it  only  gave 
their  conduct  the  appearance  of  reasonableness.  No 
man  is  willing  to  see  his  conduct  to  be  contrary  to 
sound  reason ;  yet  very  few  are  careful  to  avoid  having 
it  so.  There  was  likewise  the  influence  of  fear  in  the 
case.  They  were  unwilling  to  make  an  utter  breach 
with  the  distinguished  maker  of  the  feast. 

These  are  precisely  the  influences  which  induce  men 
to  make  excuses  for  not  accepting  God's  invitation ;  and 
they  are  just  as  delusive.  Let  us  compare  them  to- 
gether. 

These  invited  persons  hoped  not  to  make  an  utter 
breach  with  the  lord  of  the  house  by  their  refusal. 
But  they  did.  Their  excuses  passed  for  idle  breath 
with  him,  as  they  should  have  done.  The  refusal  re- 
mained a  naked  fact,  stripped  of  these  veils  ;  an  entire 
insult  to  his  friendly  and  generous  feelings  and  inten- 
tions. He  was  angry,  Christ  says.  And  we  know 
whom  he  meant  to  describe  in  that.  So  that  it  teaches 
us  this  bald  truth ;  that  God  is  indignant  at  every  re- 
fusal of  his  offered  grace ;  and  that  no  excuses  diminish 
in  his  eye  the  naked  offensiveuess  of  the  insult.  Let  us 
now  select  a  few  specimens. 

"  I  cannot  give  myself  up  to  the  invitations  of  the 
Gospel,  because  the  whole  subject  appears  to  me  unin- 
telligible." Now  can  you  on  sober  reflection  conceive 
of  any  thing  more  insulting  than  this  ?  Your  Maker 
has  made  a  costly  provision  for  your  welfare,  and  in- 
vites you  to  partake  of  it.  Your  simple  reply  is  :  "I 
cannot  understand  the  invitation.  Either  then  God  is 
not  sincere  ;  or,  he  is  not  able  to  make  himself  under- 
Btood. 

But  it  is  false.     God  does  not  believe  you.     Yon 


THE    GREAT    8UPPEK.  281 

can  understand  that  you  are  ijerisliiug  through  guilt  and 
depravity  ;  that  a  full  provision  is  made  in  both  these 
respects ;  that,  if  you  relish  the  provision,  and  23refer 
the  host  and  company,  you  may  and  will  come  ;  that 
the  act  of  coming  is  totally  a  heart-preference  or  choice. 
Tlie  feast  is  spiritual,  spread  before  the  spirit ;  and  the 
willing  heart  partakes  of  it.  All  the  difficulties  you 
yourself  make.  They  are  not  in  the  Gospel  nor  in  its 
offers. 

"  I  am  unreconciled  to  several  points  in  the  Gospel,  for 
I  regard  them  as  very  um-easouable."  Here  is  another 
insult  to  the  infinitely  wise  God.  And  it  does  not  satisfy 
him.  The  penalty,  you  say,  is  excessive.  But  that  is  not 
the  Gospel.  If  the  penalty  is  not  what  the  Gospel 
says  it  is,  then  the  Gospel  is  false.  K  it  is,  and  is 
eternal,  so  is  the  salvation  offered  you.  Are  you  going 
to  refuse  eternal  salvation,  even  if  it  is  unreasonable 
that  you  should  be  punished  for  ever  ;  or  rather,  on  the 
ground  tlxat  you  can  show  it  is  so  ?  The  conditions  are 
reasonable,  surely ;  for,  more  is  gained  than  is  sacri- 
ficed; that  only  is  required,  which  becomes  every 
rational  being  to  do.  We  pity  poor  souls  sent  to  toil 
and  to  count  their  prayers  ;  to  call  on  saints  and  an- 
gels for  salvation  ;  who  never  do  get  peace  or  hope. 
"We  pity  those  who  hang  any  part  of  their  salvation  on 
endless  genealogies.  But  two  simple  conditions  are 
made  by  the  Master  of  the  feast.  Have  an  appetite 
for  the  feast,  and  a  love  of  the  company.  Come  and 
eat,  and  be  in  fellowship  with  Christ  and  his  saints. 

"  I  have  not  time."  Tliat  is  both  insulting  and 
false.  It  means — something  more  important  claims  my 
time.  Some  duty  more  imperative  binds  my  con- 
science.    It  puts  God  upon  waiting  your  convenience. 


ik^ 


282  LECTURE  xvin. 

It  says  :  "  Wait  until  I  abuse  thy  mercy  longer  ;  then 
come  to  me  with  it  again.  I  hope  to  become  a  Chris- 
tian." When  ?  When  your  Maker  is  ready  ?  "  No  ; 
when  I  am  ready  !  "  It  is  false  ;  because  it  does  not 
require  as  much  time  as  you  give  to  infinitely  inferior 
things.  It  is  false,  because  you  have  got  the  present 
hour  in  which  you  may  come  to  the  feast. 

"  I  have  not  feeling  enough."  That  does  not  ex- 
clude you  from  the  invitation,  nor  prevent  your  com- 
ing. Tlie  will  can  act ;  and  in  every  case  of  self-con- 
quest, must  act  against  the  feelings,  or  without  them. 

"  The  invitation  is  not  personal ;  it  does  not  mean 
me."  There  is  not  a  limitation  or  qualification  to  be 
found  in  the  aj)ostolical  commission ;  not  one  in  Christ's 
offers  ;  in  the  apostles'  offers  ;  in  our  commissions  ;  in 
your  Bible.  See  this  parable.  Who  more  unlikely  to 
be  welcome  than  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  halt  and 
blind  ?  The  invitation  is  as  broad  as  the  law,  as  its  re- 
quirements, as  its  curse.  Insert  your  name  in  the  card, 
and  then  let  it  sound  forth  in  hearing  of  the  universe. 
No  matter  what  your  character  or  condition  ;  say 
what  you  will  of  yourself,  it  does  not  exclude  you 
from  the  invitation  ;  nor  will  any  thing  but  unwilling- 
ness shut  you  out  from  the  feast.  If  you  think  sin  a 
trifling  evil,  avow  it,  and  offer  that  as  your  reason.  If 
you  have  no  desire  to  possess  the  forgiveness  and  favor 
of  God,  then  that  is  the  real  reason.  The  real  state  of 
the  case  is  this  :  you  think,  in  the  depth  of  your  heart, 
that  you  will  have  a  comfortable  berth  in  the  next 
world,  by  one  means  or  another,  however  you  treat 
this  invitation.  And  on  that  falsehood  believed  is 
founded  your  indifference. 

Then  each  act  of  nfusal  is  a  sentence  of  self-con- 


THE   GKEAT   6UPPEK.  283 

demnation.  It  is  a  personal  act.  God  does  not  do  it. 
Tlie  preaclier  does  not  do  it  for  you.  Your  neighbor 
cannot  refuse  for  you.  Parents  cannot  refuse  for  their 
children.  It  is  one  of  the  most  distinctly  individual 
and  personal  of  your  actions. 

It  is  voluntary.  N^o  kind  of  outward  constraint  can 
cause  it,  or  prevent  it,  unless  you  choose.  If  you  were 
under  Mohammedan  control,  that  should  prohibit  your 
confessing  Christ,  it  could  not  prevent  you  from  ac- 
cepting the  invitation  to  his  feast ;  for  the  acceptance 
is  purely  sj)iritual  and  voluntary.     So  is  the  refusal. 

It  is  intelligently  done.  You  can  plead  no  want 
of  clearness  in  this  featm-e  of  the  Gospel. 

It  rejects  salvation,  and  presents  reasons  as  satis- 
factory and  sufficient  for  such  rejection.  But  sufficient 
or  insufficient,  you  shut  the  door  of  heaven  with  your 
own  hand.  You  dash  the  cup  of  salvation  to  the  earth ; 
you  tear  the  proclamation  of  your  pardon  in  pieces. 

It  is  a  deliberate  and  contemptuous  rejection  of 
God's  love  as  expressed  in  the  Gospel. 

We  see  the  value  of  a  jn^esent  moment  under  the  in- 
vitations of  the  Gosjpel.  It  is  a  moment  when  God 
waits  to  be  gracious.  Tlie  feast  is  ready  ;  the  Master 
waits.  Can  any  part  of  the  universe  present  such  a  spec- 
tacle ;  God  inviting  ;  some  accepting  ;  some  refusing  ! 

Tlie  decision  is  final  at  some  such  moment  as  this. 
"  The  doors  were  shut."  "  There  remaineth  no  more 
sacrifice  for  sin."  This  refusal  establishes  an  eternal 
relation  between  God  and  the  soul ;  and  what  a  re- 
lation ! 

See  that  soul  turning  away  from  God's  banqueting- 
Uouse,  satisfied  with  the  wisdom  of  its  preference  ! 


LECTUKE  XIX. 

THE  SEED  IN  GOOB  GEOUND ;  OE,  EIGHT  RECEPTION  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

Matt.  xin.  23.  "  But  lie  that  received  seed  into  the  good  ground  is  he 
that  heareth  the  word,  and  understandeth  it ;  wliich  also  beareth  fruit,  and 
bringeth  forth,  some  a  hundredfold,  some  sixty,  some  thirty." 

In  all  tlie  former  stages  of  tliis  parable  we  have 
seen  the  expectations  of  tlie  Sower  disappointed.  Now 
we  come  to  see  them  gratified  and  realized.  The  seed 
is  not  here  rejected  by  a  rude,  ungenial  soil,  that  has 
no  affinities  for  its  precious  life  ;  nor  is  it  received  by 
a  partial  sympathy  that  gives  it  a  temporary  entertain- 
ment ;  nor  has  it  a  rival  growth  of  thorns,  that  finally 
choke  and  destroy  it. 

Here  is  a  reception  of  Christ's  Gospel  into  a  heart 
which  bids  it  a  full  welcome,  and  incorporates  it  into 
its  very  life  ;  so  that  now  the  direct  glorious  results  at 
which  infinite  mercy  aimed  in  creating  the  facts  of  the 
Gospel,  and  sending  to  men  the  message  and  ofters  of 
salvation,  are  realized. 

Our  attention  is  here  called  to  the  right  reception 
of  the  Gospel,  and  to  the  consequences  of  it. 

1.  What  is  the  eight  eeception  of  the  Gospel  ? 
The  answer  may  be  given  in  a  word.     It  is  the  re- 


THE    SEED   IN    GOOD    GROUND.  285 

ception  of  it  into  the  mind  and  heart,  as  the  remedy 
for  sin.     This  involves 

The  recognition  of  sin.  He  receives  the  word  by 
nnderstanding  it.  In  Luke  it  is  said:  "That  on  the 
good  ground  are  the}^,  which,  in  an  honest  and  good 
heart,  having  heard  the  word,  keep  it."  "  Good  and 
honest  hearts"  cannot  here  mean  hearts  without  sin; 
for,  in  that  case,  there  would  be  no  Gospel  for  them. 
Christ  says  :  "I  came,  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but 
sinners  to  repentance."  An  honest  heart  is  one  that 
acknowledges  its  wrong.  There  is  no  honesty  in 
any  of  us  denying  that  we  are  sinful  before  God,  and 
sinners  against  him.  "  Take  heed  how  ye  hear,"  says 
the  Saviour.  If  any  spend  his  life  in  trying  to  deceive 
himself  and  his  Creator,  and  to  pass  for  something  better 
than  a  sinner,  then  he  hears  the  word,  in  a  frame  of 
mind  and  heart  which  makes  it  "foolishness,"  or  a 
stumbling-book"  to  him. 

Tliere  have  been  thousands  to  whom  the  Gospel  was 
first  proclaimed  in  their  adult  age  ;  and  among  them 
we  see  striking  instances  of  this  honest  and  good  heart. 
Their  goodness  did  not  consist  in  not  needing  a  Sa- 
viour, but  in  knowing  that  they  were  not  what  they 
ought  to  be,  and  in  longing  to  be  good.  Such  were 
the  first  Jewish  converts, — Andrew,  Petei,  John  and 
Nathanael.  Such  was  the  woman  of  Sychar.  Such 
too  was  Lydia,  a  Gentile  woman.  Such  was  the  trea- 
surer of  the  Ethiopian  queen.  Some  of  these  persons 
had  probably  been  meditating  for  years  upon  their  sin- 
ful, guilty  and  helpless  condition  ;  following  such  light 
as  they  had,  and  longing  for  more.  And  the  moment  a 
Saviour  was  announced,  who  had  come  from  heaven  to 
make  the  wicked  holy,  their  hearts  rushed  to  meet  him. 

* 


286  LECTURE    XIX. 

In  tlie  life  of  every  person  who  is  born  under  the 
Gospel,  an  opportunity  is  furnished  of  accepting  or  re- 
jecting it.  In  some  cases  it  continues  only  through  a 
brief  period  of  childhood.  With  others,  it  continues 
on  through  youth.  And  if  they  do  not  believe  in 
Christ  before  they  reach  their  tenth  year,  they  never 
again  in  all  eternity  will  be  within  the  reach  of  that 
salvation.  Thus  their  ranks  are  diminishing  every 
year  ;  fewer  and  still  fewer  remain  to  hear  the  call  of 
mercy.  And  when  a  man  has  attained  to  sixty  years 
of  age,  even  in  the  most  fixed  population,  he  looks 
around  the  sanctuary  in  vain  to  find  those  that  heard 
the  Gospel  there  with  him  in  childhood.  With  the 
majority  probation  is  very  brief;  with  none  is  it  very 
long.  But  while  it  lasts,  the  good  Sower  continues  to 
sow.  And  in  some  cases  his  patience  is  wonderful ; 
that  he  should  continue  thirty,  forty,  sixty  years  sow- 
ing, sowing  on  such  a  heart,  hearer,  as  yours,  that 
never  received  the  seed,  nor  brought  forth  a  single 
fruit ! 

But  where  it  is  received  efifectually,  there,  I  have 
said,  is  a  consciousness  of  sin.  Especially  is  there  a 
sense  of  the  intrinsic  and  enormous  evil  of  sin,  and  of 
their  own  dreadful  condition  as  sinners.  That  draws 
the  dividing  line  in  our  religious  assemblies.  With 
some,  sin  is  a  vague,  undefined  sort  of  evil ;  which, 
like  other  disagreeable  things,  must  be  kept  out  of 
sight.  They  have  never  been  willing  to  know  how 
tremendous  an  evil  it  is  for  man  to  be  ungodly,  diso- 
bedient, and  unholy.  And  hence  the  Gospel  is  but  an 
amusement.  The  other  class  find  in  the  requirements 
of  God's  law  a  perfect  and  an  infinite  excellence.  They 
find  the  same  in  the  Saviour's  character.     But  sin  ia 


THE    SEED    IN    GOOD    GEOUND.  287 

the  opposite  of  all  that.  It  is  just  as  hideous  and  fear- 
ful as  they  are  lovely  and  desirable.  To  be  a  sinner  is 
to  be  an  enemy  of  God, — is  to  have  perverted  all  his 
gifts,  to  have  rebelled  against  his  authority,  to  have 
hated  his  happiness,  to  have  set  ourselves  against  the 
well-being  of  his  kingdom.  It  is  selfishness,  pride,  dis- 
obedience, ingratitude,  rebellion,  in  all ;  in  some  it  has 
put  on  grosser  forms,  such  as  become  insufferable  even 
to  a  community  of  sinners. 

Now  until  any  person  sees,  to  some  degree,  this  to 
be  the  nature  and  character  of  sin,  he  is  not  prepared 
to  appreciate  the  Gospel,  nor  to  hear  it  aright. 

Nor  is  this  sufficient ;  as  the  Gospel  is  an  ofier  of 
salvation  to  individuals,  it  must  be  heard  by  us  as  those 
who  have  in  it  every  sacred  and  immortal  interest  at 
stake.  "We  are  under  the  sentence  of  eternal  death  as 
the  transgressors  of  God's  law  ;  and  we  come  to  hear  a 
proclamation  of  forgiveness  from  our  Judge.  It  is  to  us 
as  if  the  day  of  judgment  had  come  ;  we  have  heard 
the  clangor  of  that  awful  trumpet,  have  seen  the  gather- 
ing nations  assembled  to  hear  their  doom.  The  Judge 
is  on  his  great  white  throne  ;  the  books  are  opened ; 
and  we  are  there  expecting  to  hear  our  names  an- 
nounced, our  actions  and  our  characters  described,  and 
our  souls  and  bodies  given  up  to  the  power  of  sin  and 
the  horrors  of  the  second  death.  But  hark !  a  sweet 
trumpet  sound  announcing  a  suspension  of  proceedings. 
An  angel  comes  forth  and  opens  a  broad  scroll,  and 
reads  thus : — 

"  From  the  King  eternal,  the  Most  High  God ;  to 
the  guilty  children  of  Adam  :  Hear  ye.  In  our  infinite 
clemency  judgment  is  suspended  ;  and  for  the  space 
of  one  hour  full  opportunity  is  given  to  every  one  to 


288  LECTURE   XIX. 

approach  the  Judge,  and  as'k  for  pardon  and  eternal 
life." 

"Wliat  an  honr  is  that !  What  an  opportunity  !  So 
comes  a  soul  to  hear  the  Gospel,  that  knows  its  own 
guilt,  and  longs  for  forgiveness.  There  is  no  self- 
excusing  ;  for  every  excuse  is  an  argument  against  our 
having  any  thing  to  do  with  the  Gospel.  It  offers 
pardon  to  the  guilty  ;  it  offers  heaven  to  the  undeserv- 
ing ;  it  offers  holiness  to  the  vilest,  if  they  but  know 
and  abhor  their  vileness,  and  long  for  holiness.  "  Ho, 
every  one  that  thirsteth  ;  come,  buy  wine  and  milk, 
without  money,  and  without  price." 

Tlie  right  reception  of  the  Gospel,  then,  further  in- 
cludes 

The  acce/ptance  of  the  remedy  it  offers.  Here  I 
would  call  your  attention  to  two  other  parables  in  the 
same  chapter  with  this  of  the  sower.  Tlie  one  com- 
pares the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  a  treasure  hid  in  a 
field  ;  the  other,  to  a  merchant  seeking  goodly  pearls. 
In  despotic  governments  property  is  very  insecure. 
This  has  led  to  the  practice  of  burying  precious  metals, 
coin  and  jewels.  A  man  ploughing  a  field,  lights  upon 
such  a  prize,  and  goes  to  purchase  the  field  where  it 
has  been  concealed.  An  old  law  definition  of  treasure 
trove  is — property  concealed,  for  which  now  at  its  dis- 
covery, no  owner  can  be  found.  Here  are  the  persons 
in  whom  the  Gospel  itself,  heard  by  accident,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  woman  of  Sychar,  or  from  custom  or  curiosi- 
ty, or  a  general  conviction  of  duty,  arouses  a  sense  of 
their  want,  which  it  alone  can  satisfy.  But  the  pearl- 
merchant  is  on  the  search  for  pearls.  This  describes 
another  class  found  among  the  Jews  and  Pagans. 
They  are  weary  of  all  that  the  earth  contains,  because 


THE  SEED  IN  GOOD  GROUND.  289 

it  is  not  made  to  satisfy  the  soul.  Some  liave  made, 
like  King  Solomon,  the  chase  of  haj)piness,  through  the 
whole  range  of  created  good  ;  and  like  him  they  have 
rendered  the  verdict :  "  vanity  of  vanities."  Saul  of 
Tarsus  had  sought  it  in  formalism  and  a  high  morality. 
Augustine  had  sought  it  in  pleasure  and  philosophy. 
Justin  Martyr  had  sought  it  in  the  whole  round  of  Greek 
philosophy.  And  alike  joyfully  did  they  "sell  all,"  to 
buy  the  priceless  pearl.  Self-righteousness,  self-will,  and 
self-love  were  the  idols  to  be  renounced,  that  the  God- 
man  might  rule  in  their  hearts.  The  first  true  recep- 
tion then  that  any  one  gives  the  Gospel,  is,  when  they 
accept  Christ  to  be  their  Saviour ;  take  the  offered 
salvation  as  a  free  gift ;  and  return  to  God  as  their 
reconciled  Father  ;  henceforth  to  obey  and  serve  him. 
It  includes  the  rejection  of  all  other  good  as  the  portion 
of  the  soul ;  the  abandonment  of  every  dependence  but 
on  Christ  alone  for  salvation.  This  is  the  first  recep- 
tion. Thenceforth,  the  word  is  heard  continually,  for 
instruction,  for  consolation,  for  guidance,  and  for  sancti- 
fication.  So  that  another  element  of  a  right  reception 
of  the  Gospel  is  this  :  accepting  and  employing  it. 

For  growth  in  holiness  /  or,  as  Peter  calls  it,  grow- 
ing in  grace.  And  the  phrase  is  very  significant.  There 
are  those  who  truly  accept  the  offers  of  mercy  in  the 
Gospel,  and  take  salvation  and  a  Saviour  "  without 
money  and  without  price."  They  begin  well ;  but  after 
a  time  they  slide  back  into  the  old  tracks  of  self-right- 
eousness ;  not  perceiving  that  it  is  the  Gospel,  and  not 
the  law,  which  can  sanctify.  The  regenerated  soul 
then  hears  the  word  ;  to  grow  in  the  sense  of  his  need 
of  Christ ;  to  grow  in  his  estimate  and  desire  of  holi- 
ness ;  to  discover  the  heights  and  depths  of  grace ;  to 
13 


290  LECTURE   XIX. 

learn  the  methods  of  God's  grace  with  the  soul ;  to  see 
its  own  glorious  inheritance  in  Christ ;  to  learn  to  pray : 
to  anticij)ate  heaven's  employments  and  enjoyments. 
In  such  the  seed  produces  fruit. 

II.  What  then  aee  the  results  ? 

The  whole  character  is  changed.  "  K  any  man  is  in 
Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature ;  old  things  are  passed 
away  ;  behold  all  things  are  become  new."  "What  was 
bad,  is  now  renounced  in  action,  in  emotion,  in  thought. 
What  was  good,  is  purified  from  its  selfishness  and  un- 
godliness. "  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace, 
long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness, 
temperance."  To  see  these  fruits  exemplified,  let  us 
look  at  Saul  of  Tarsus.  He  tells  us  that  he  was  "  alive  " 
once,  in  his  ignorance  of  the  law.  He  did  not  know 
what  lust,  or  wrong  desire  was,  until  the  law  said  to 
him  :  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet."  Then  he  found  his 
morality  to  be  altogether  a  whitened  sepulchre.  From 
sins  in  man's  eye  he  had  scrupulously,  honorably  ab- 
stained. But,  from  sins  in  God's  eye  he  had  not  had 
any  care  to  abstain.  Now  he  saw  himself  both  con- 
demned and  depraved.  He  fled  to  the  Saviour.  He 
received  the  Gospel  into  a  good  and  honest  heart.  And 
what  were  the  effects  on  his  character  ?  He  became 
humble.  He  ceased  ascribing  any  thing  to  himself; 
that  he  might  ascribe  all  to  God.  He  ceased  thinking 
highly  of  his  outward  advantages.  He  ceased  aspiring 
to  be  thought  great.  He  ceased  avenging  himself ;  or 
being  sensitive  to  reproach,  neglect,  or  contempt.  He 
ceased  seeking  high  earthly  alliances,  stations,  or  hon- 
ors. He  became  gentle,  condescending,  and  entirely 
simple  vo  his  character.     He  became  spiritual ;  turned 


THE  SEED  IN  GOOD  GROUND.  291 

away  from  luxury,  ease  and  wealth.  He  turned  to  the 
kingdom  of  God,  as  his  present  delight ;  to  heaven  as 
his  home  ;  to  the  Holy  Ghost  for  comfort ;  to  the  judg- 
ment for  his  rewards  ;  to  the  godly  for  his  social  en- 
joyments ;  to  prayer  in  his  trials ;  to  praises  for  enter- 
tainment ;  to  the  Scriptures  for  instruction.  His  love 
entered  a  new  channel.  Self  was  no  more  its  supreme 
object;  personal  friends  and  his  own  nation  no  more 
its  boundary.  He  loved  Christ  intensely.  He  loved 
Christ's  disciples  more  than  any  other  men.  He  loved 
mankind  with  a  love  that  would  cheerfully  have  em- 
braced the  cross  for  them.  His  heart  expanded  to  the 
vastness  of  an  asylum  for  the  whole  afflicted  family  of 
man.  Every  church  was  dear  to  him  ;  and  every  mem- 
ber of  every  church.  "  Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not 
weak  ;  who  is  offended,  and  I  burn  not ! "  "  The  care 
of  all  the  chm'ches  is  come  upon  me." 

Here  were  fruits  more  rich  in  God's  sight  than  all 
the  productions  of  nature  in  her  most  luxuriant  gar- 
dens, than  all  the  products  of  philosophy,  of  science,  or 
of  any  other  form  of  human  cultivation.  Another  and 
consequent  result  of  this  change  is, 

A  change  in  the  whole  life.  If  a  brackish  fountain 
has  suddenly  lost  its  bad  qualities,  the  change  will 
be  discovered  in  the  sweetness  of  the  stream  that  flows 
from  it. 

We  may  here  turn  again  to  Paul.  He  is  living  su- 
premely for  the  glory  and  kingdom  of  God.  He  used  to 
live  for  himself  and  the  little  coterie  of  Pharisees  like 
himself.  But  now  he  has  given  up  all  that.  The  seed 
of  the  kingdom  has  fallen  upon  the  soil,  taken  root, 
and  begun  to  grow.  And  now  the  renewed  man  can 
say  :  "  For  me  to  live  is  Chiist."     He  used  to  glory  in 


292  LECTUKE   XEX. 

Judaism,  in  Pharisaism,  in  Saul  the  pupil  of  Gamaliel, 
the  straitest  of  the  strait.  Now  he  exclaims  :  "  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  Christ." 
He  goes  through  the  world  more  like  an  angel  than  a 
man,  burning  with  seraphic  love  to  the  glorious  Re- 
deemer, and  holding  up  his  cross  to  the  adoration  of 
the  universe. 

Tliere  was  another  change  in  his  outward  life.  He 
gave  all  his  energies  to  the  conversion  of  other  men  to 
God.  Probably  a  more  laborious,  self-denying  man 
has  never  lived.  But  it  was  all  for  the  benefit  of  others. 
He  had  received  the  promise  of  heaven.  That  was 
secured  to  him.  He  was  not  laboring  to  earn  it,  or 
to  make  it  sure  ;  but  to  induce  his  fellow  men  to  share 
its  blessedness  with  him. 

ITow  it  is  true  that  very  few  are  called  to  the  same 
outward  course  which  was  assigned  to  him.  But  with 
all,  the  same  motives  ought  to  be  equally  predominant ; 
although  their  sphere  and  the  mode  of  action  may  be 
the  routine  of  some  secular  employment,  and  the  ob- 
scurity of  homely  domestic  duties. 

There  is  in  nature  and  in  grace  a  variety  in  the  kind 
as  well  as  quantity  of  fruit  that  the  husbandman  de- 
sires. But  when  the  Word  of  Christ  is  received  as  it 
should  be,  then  there  is  fruit  in  the  heart,  and  fruit  in 
the  life  ;  "  Some  thirty,  some  sixty  ;  and  some,  a  hun- 
dredfold." 

There  is,  then,  a  great  responsibility  in  preaching, 
hearing,  and  possessing  the  Word  of  God.  Our  respon- 
sibility is  to  God.  He  is  sowing  on  the  field  of  our 
hearts.  That  a  field  has  soils  of  various  kinds,  may  be 
a  matter  of  no  interest  to  any  one  else  ;  but  to  the  fru- 


THE   SEED    EN   GOOD   GROUND.  293 

gal  farmer  it  is  a  matter  of  great  interest.  To  the  pass- 
ing traveller  it  would  occasion  no  anxiety  to  know 
whether  all  was  hard  as  the  wayside  ;  or  all  a  liglit 
soil  on  a  broad  undivided  rock ;  whether  thorns  and 
thistles  had  intertwined  their  noxious  roots  over  all  its 
sni-face  ;  or  whether  it  would  give  bread  to  the  sower, 
and  return  thirty,  sixty,  and  a  hundi'edfold  to  the 
reaper.  But  to  the  industrious  laborer  this  was  a  mat- 
ter of  the  first  moment.  Tliat  laborer  represents  the 
Lord.  ISTo  man  knows  the  depth  of  his  solicitude  as  to 
the  results  of  preaching  and  hearing  the  Gospel.  What 
delight  it  gives  him  to  hear  his  ambassadors  proclaim 
the  Gospel  in  its  simplicity  and  fulness  ;  and  to  see  men 
receiving  it  in  faith  and  submission,  none  can  tell. 
Perhaps  there  is  nothing  in  the  universe  so  delightful 
to  him.  "  I  say  unto  you,  there  is  joy  in  the  presence 
of  the  angels  of  God,  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth." 
What  a  beautiful  spectacle  is  a  rich,  mellow  soil,  lying 
under  the  mild  showers  of  spring,  and  the  invigorating 
warmth  of  a  summer's  sun,  with  the  refreshing  of  its 
dews  and  rains  animating  the  grain,  pushing  forth  the 
tender  blade  ;  then  the  gi-een  ear,  then  the  full  corn  in  the 
ear !  But  how  much  more  beautiful  to  see  a  heart  open 
to  receive  the  communications  of  God's  light  and  love, 
that  it  may  take  the  impression  of  his  image  ;  that  it 
may  render  back  a  hundredfold  in  love  and  homage, 
in  gratitude  and  obedience,  in  praise  and  thanksgiving ! 
And  what  an  evil  must  it  be  to  disappoint  Christ  of  all 
that  !  What  an  evil  in  the  preacher  !  Wliat  an  evil 
in  the  hearer  !     Then, 

We  7nay  do  well  to  review  our  past  hearing.  Did 
we  harden  our  hearts  by  outward  sins ;  bad  books ; 
bad  companions  ;  excessive  worldly  care,  pursuits  and 


294  LECTURE    XIX. 

occupations  ?  Have  we  encouraged  scepticism  ?  Have 
we  resisted  the  convictions  of  guilt  and  depravity  ? 
Have  we  tried  to  cheat  Christ  by  formality,  good  reso- 
lutions, or  any  other  substitute  for  faith,  repentance, 
and  obedience  ?  Tlien  let  us  see  the  wickedness  of  this 
course  ;  and  abandon  it,  Mathout  delay. 

To  which  class  do  you  belong  ?  Is  your  heart  the 
wayside,  the  rocky  soil,  or  the  thorny  ground  ;  or  is  it 
the  good  ground  ?  How  are  you  meeting  the  Gospel 
now  ?  What  was  your  motive  in  coming  to  the  house 
of  God  ?  Was  it  to  learn  his  will,  to  obey  his  com- 
mands, to  be  sanctified  wholly  ?  Did  you  come  with 
meditation  and  prayer  ?  Christ  aims  at  profound 
changes.  Do  you  ?  Are  you  "  seeking  pearls  ? " 
Have  you  heard  for  yourself,  with  the  fear  of  being 
deceived ;  with  earnest  attention  ?  Have  you  heard 
with  a  heart  dead  to  the  world ;  afraid  of  cowardice,' — ■ 
of  compromising ;  ready  to  see  itsself ;  to  be  humbled ; 
to  make  sacrifices  to  change  its  purposes ;  mainly 
anxious  to  be  reconciled  to  God,  to  be  like  Christ, 
and  to  glorify  him  ? 

We  should  look  out  from  this  service  to  its  conse- 
quences. Christ  is  looking  to  future  and  eternal  conse- 
quences. Hence  he  compares  men  hearing  his  Word 
to  builders.  He  that  hears  and  obeys,  builds  upon  a 
rock.  He  that  hears  without  obedience,  builds  on  the 
sand.  And  the  storm  is  coming,  the  floods  will  swell ; 
and  sea  and  wind  will  beat  upon  his  house ;  and  it 
must  fall  terribly,  says  the  Lord.  It  is  therefore  a  mat- 
ter of  supreme  moment  to  you  to  hear  aright.  Here, 
under  this  discourse,  this  parable  is  now  illustrated  tc 
the  eye  that  searches  our  hearts. 


THE   SEED   IN    GOOD   GROUND.  295 

One  is  Hearing  as  if  he  had  not  a  soul,  or  that  soul 
had  no  interest  in  this  glorious  Gospel.  He  has  amused 
himself  with  the  sermon,  or  something  else.  And 
what  is  to  become  of  God's  sowing  on  his  heart  to-day  ? 
Nothing  ;  nothing  for  God  ;  nothing  for  its  own  future 
welfare  ;  nothing  for  the  world's  good. 

Another  is  hearing  with  much  interest,  and  with 
self-application.  But  what  is  going  to  come  of  it  here- 
after ?  It  is  going  to  wither  and  perish.  Why  must 
that  be?  Because  he  is  looking  only  on  the  bright 
side  of  religion,  and  not  giving  himself  to  Christ,  with 
a  cordiality  which  will  be  proof  against  opposition, 
ridicule  and  persecution.  There  are  members  of  his 
own  family,  or  a  company  into  which  he  will  hereafter 
fall,  that  shall  shake  him  loose  from  Christ  and  his 
service. 

Another  is  hearing  too  with  interest,  who  will  also 
decline  from  Christ,  because  the  world  is  going  to  pre- 
sent itself,  by  and  by,  in  such  charms  as  to  steal  away 
the  heart  from  the  Saviour. 

These  painful  anticipations  our  Lord  had  when  he 
uttered  this  parable.  And  they  are  full  of  warning 
to  us. 

We  must  then  hear,  with  earnestness,  with  faith  in 
God's  testimony,  and  a  cordial  returning  to  Christ. 


LECTUEE  XX. 

THE  LOST  BON  EE8T0EED  ;  OR,  THE  SINNEE'S  EETUEN. 

LuKEXv.  11-32.' — "And  he  said,  A  certain  man  had  two  sons:  and 
the  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father.  Father,  give  me  the  portion  of 
goods  that  falleth  ta  me.  And  he  divided  unto  them  his  living.  And  not 
many  days  after  the  younger  son  gathered  all  together,  and  took  his  jour- 
ney into  a  far  country,  and  there  wasted  his  substance  with  riotous  living. 
And  when  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mighty  famine  in  that  land  ;  and 
he  began  to  be  in  want.  And  he  went  and  joined  himself  to  a  citizen  of 
that  country  ;  and  he  sent  him  into  his  fields  to  feed  swine.  And  he  would 
fain  have  fiUed  his  belly  with  the  husks  that  the  swine  did  eat :  and  no 
man  gave  unto  him.  And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he  said.  How  many 
hired  seiTants  of  my  father's  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish 
with  hunger !  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him, 
Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants.  And 
he  arose,  and  came  to  his  father.  But  when  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off, 
his  father  saw  him,  and  had  compassion,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his  neck,  and 
kissed  him.  And  the  son  said  unto  him.  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son. 
But  the  father  said  to  his  servants.  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and  put  it  on 
him  :  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  or  his  feet :  and  bring  hither 
the  fatted  calf,  and  kiU  it ;  and  let  us  eat,  and  «e  merry :  for  this  my  son 
was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found.  And  they  began 
to  be  merry.  Now  his  elder  son  was  in  the  field :  and  as  he  came  and 
drew  nigh  to  the  house,  he  heard  music  and  dancing.  And  he  called  one 
of  the  servants,  and  asked  what  these  things  meant.  And  he  said  unto 
him.  Thy  brother  is  come ;  and  thy  father  bath  killed  the  fatted  calf,  be- 
cause he  hath  received  him  safe  and  sound.  And  he  was  angrj',  and  would 
not  go  in  •  therefore  came  his  father  out,  and  entreated  him.     And  he 


THE    LOST    SON    RESTORED.  297 

answering  said  to  his  father,  Lo,  these  many  years  do  I  serve  thee,  neither 
transgressed  I  at  any  time  thy  commandment ;  and  yet  thou  never  gavest 
me  a  kid,  that  I  miglit  make  merry  with  my  friends  :  but  as  soon  as  this 
thy  son  was  come,  which  hath  devoured  thy  hving  with  harlots,  thou  hast 
killed  for  him  the  fatted  calf.  And  he  said  unto  him,  Son,  thou  art  ever 
with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine.  It  was  meet  that  we  should  make 
merry,  and  he  glad :  for  this  thy  brother  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again ; 
and  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

In  the  range  of  linman  eloquence,  there  can  be 
found  no  exhibition  of  stern,  but  courteous  rebuke,  at 
once  so  simple  and  so  eifective  as  this  story. 

The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  had  reproached  Jesus, 
because  he  received  sinners,  and  ate  with  them.  In 
order  to  silence  their  murmurings,  and  those  of  their 
class  in  every  age,  our  Lord  related  first  the  case  of  the 
shej)herd  and  the  woman  searching  for  their  lost  treas- 
ures ;  adding  in  each  case,  a  declaration  that  opens 
heaven  to  our  view,  and  shows  the  whole  celestial  re- 
gions filled  with  joy  at  the  repentance  of  even  the  vilest 
sinner.  And  then,  when  we  have  seen,  first,  the  hum- 
ble shepherd's  heart  swelling  with  joy  at  the  recovery 
of  his  poor,  wandering  sheep  ;  the  humble  cottager 
calling  in  her  neighbors  to  share  her  delight  at  the  res- 
toration of  the  lost  money ;  while  we  behold  the  angels 
rejoicing  at  the  scene  of  those  degraded  sinners  gather- 
ing to  hear  the  preaching  of  Jesus,  and  to  repent  at  his 
word  ;  when  we  are  looking  upon  the  infinite  God,  with 
paternal  tenderness  welcoming  back  these  degraded 
children  of  Abraham  ;  and  all  "  the  household  of  faith" 
exulting,  then  the  Pharisee  is  brought  before  us,  proud, 
cold,  sullen  and  self-righteous  ;  murmuring  at  his  fa- 
ther's kindness  ;  forgetting  that  this  is  a  brother  restored 
to  virtue,  home  and  blessedness.  His  voice  is  heard 
amid  the  anthems  of  angels,  and  of  the  church  in  hea- 
13* 


298  LECTURE   XX. 

ven  and  earth  ;  but  only  in  jarring  discord ;  maning 
the  celestial  harmony  by  the  grating  notes  of  fiendish 
pride  and  jealousy. 

Having  already  considered  the  vindication  of  God's 
mercy,  which  is  the  main  object  of  this  parable,  we 
may  now  fix  our  attention  upon  that  part  which  so 
graphically  ej  hibits  the  soul's  departure  from  God,  and 
its  return. 

The  parable  describes  three  stages  of  experience  : 
the  soul  abandoning  God  ;  its  return  to  God  ;  its  recep- 
tion by  God. 

I.  The  Depaetttre. 

Here  we  see  most  graphically  and  perfectly  exhib- 
ited the  course  of  every  child  of  Adam  ;  though  it  goes 
beyond  the  experience  of  some  ;  as  it  was  designed  to 
meet  the  very  extremest  case  of  apostate,  and  even 
abandoned  humanity.     We  have  here  brought  to  view, 

1.  The  essence  and  gerTYi  of  all  sin,  as  it  consists  in 
an  indtdged  feeling.  If  that  point  could  be  clearly 
seen,  the  whole  world  would  be  convicted  of  sin.  It 
began  in  Eve,  when  she  first  entertained  a  suspicion  of 
God.  That  seems  to  be  the  tap-root  of  sin ;  as  faith  is 
the  deepest  root  of  goodness.  It  manifests  itself,  how- 
ever, in  indirect  forms  of  feeling,  which  can  more  easily 
be  recognized  than  its  direct  exercises. 

This  young  man  was  first  alienated  in  heart  from 
his  father.  Then  came  these  various  shades  of  feeling ; 
independence  of  his  father's  love  ;  independence  of  his 
care  ;  aversion  to  his  authority  ;  regardlessness  of  his 
wishes.  This  is  our  sin,  as  it  lies  in  the  soul,  before  it 
assumes  an  outward  form  ; 

Independence  of  God's  love.     "When  a  child  ceases 


THE    LOST    SON    KESTORED.  299 

to  prize  his  parent's  love,  the  cord  is  severed.  He  may 
be  thenceforth  outwardly  dutiful  and  respectful ;  but, 
there  is  no  more  vitality  in  their  union,  no  more  sim- 
plicity and  satisfaction  in  their  intercourse.  The  human 
heart  demands  love  as  itis  life.  It  must  love,  and  be 
loved.  This  son  needed  to  be  the  object  of  love  ;  and 
he  must  therefore  find  it  elsewhere,  if  possible.  Tlie 
fatal  step  was  taken  by  each  of  us,  however  early,  at 
that  moment  in  which  we  made  up  our  minds  that  we 
could  be  happy  without  God's  love.  All  is  wrong 
when  we  are  indiflferent  to  the  society  and  the  friend- 
ship of  our  heavenly  Father.  "We  have  then  already 
departed  from  home  ;  although  we  may  linger  about 
the  house,  as  this  young  man  did,  for  a  few  days,  or  for 
fifty  years. 

Independence  of  God's  care  is  another  form  of  this 
feeling.  "  In  him  we  live  and  move,  and  have  our 
being."  But  we  are  averse  to  feeling  that;  and  hence, 
prayer  is  irksome  to  us.  Instead  of  saying,  "  give  me 
the  portion,  that  I  may  be  independent,"  filial  love  says, 
"  give  me  to-day  what  I  need,  for  I  am  dependent." 
This  young  man  knew  that  he  needed  money ;  but 
thought  he  did  not  need  a  father's  love.  The  property 
he  prized  as  indispensable  ;  but,  the  father  himself  was 
worth  nothing  to  him.  And  so,  alas  !  we  have  re- 
garded God. 

Aversion  to  the  pressure  and  restraint  of  God's  au- 
thority is  another  form  of  this  feeling.  He  wished  to 
be  his  own  master ;  for,  perfect  freedom  he  regarded 
as  indispensable  to  his  happiness.  The  house  was  gov- 
erned too  strictly  for  his  comfort.  It  was  too  quiet  and 
dull  for  his  buoyant  spirits.  He  must  be  a  man  ;  be 
ofi",  and  see  the  world,  and  live  as  he  listed.     Thus  have 


300  LECTUBE   XX. 

we  felt  about  God's  authority.  His  laws  are  too  strict 
He  requires  us  to  give  up  too  muclij  and  do  too  much. 

Regardlessness  of  God's  feelings  is  at  the  root  of  our 
wickedness.  The  son  planned  totally  for  his  own  grati- 
fication, and  never  probably  for  an  instant  thought  of 
the  base  ingratitude  of  his  course.  No  man  ever 
chooses  ingratitude  for  its  own  sake,  either  toward  man 
or  God.  But  every  one  is  ungrateful  to  God  by  su- 
premely prizing  his  own  gratification,  and  disregard- 
ing that  of  his  Maker.  Your  heart  beats  ;  and  on  that 
pulsation  depends  your  life.  Did  you  ever  pause  to 
think  that  that  beating  is  independent  of  your  will ! 
You  lie  down  and  sleep  in  utter  oblivion  of  yourself  or 
your  life ;  but  one  guardian  eye  is  watching  over  your 
pillow ;  one  kind  hand  is  keeping  tl^t  ebb  and  flow  of 
tlie  vital  current.  Oh !  when  you  awake  in  the  morning, 
why  do  you  not  exultingly  cry  :  "  All  my  springs  are 
in  thee  ; "  why  do  you  not  feel  that  you  are  bound  by 
the  most  sacred  and  tender  ties  to  do  his  will ! 

The  question  with  every  wanderer  from  God,  is : 
how  may  I  please  myself ;  not,  how  may  I  please  Him  ? 

To  this  mental  departure  from  our  Heavenly  Father 
there  then  succeeds, 

2.  An  outward  departure.  Now  comes  the  shaping  of 
selfish  desires  into  a  plan.  It  includes  these  points :  The 
son  must  claim  the  property,  as  he  could  not  live  with- 
out that.  That,  in  fact,  was  to  make  him  happy  ;  and 
the  end  to  be  gained  was,  to  get  tlie  property  into  his 
own  hands,  so  that  he  might  enjoy  it  without  having 
any  thing  to  do  with  his  father.  "  Give  me,"  was  his 
cry  ;  "  give  me,  that  I  may  be  independent,  and  exile 
myself  from  thee."  So  we  must  have  God's  property. 
A-nd  our  plan  includes  the  getting  of  that,  ana  the  for- 


THE   LOST   SON   KESTOKED.  301 

getting  of  Him.  "  Give  me,  give  me,"  is  still  our  self- 
ish ciy,  from  day  to  day.  Having  renounced  God  as 
the  source  of  happiness,  we  must  now  find  it  in  his 
gifts.  And  the  only  distinction  that  arranges  sinners 
into  various  classes,  is,  the  difference  in  the  forms  of 
created  good  each  thinks  best  suited  to  make  him  hap- 
py without  God.  The  next  stage  of  progress,  was,  to 
gather  all  together.  Do  you  see  that  infatuated  young 
man  ?  He  is  gathering  all  together,  to  go  away  from 
his  father,  his  home,  his  country.  That  is  man,  gather- 
ing up  every  thing  of  God's  he  can  lay  his  hands  upon, 
to  be  happy  without  him. 

He  must  then  quit  the  house ;  although  it  was  an 
endeared  place  ;  and,  at  any  time,  it  would  make  him 
sad  to  leave  it.  Yet  now,  with  desperate  decision  he 
resolves  to  break  these  tender  cords.  He  is  doing 
wrong.  It  is  not  duty,  but  infatuation  that  impels  him. 
But  he  has  concluded  that  he  cannot  be  independent 
there  :  that  he  is  too  much  restrained  there,  and  there- 
fore must  go.  Such  is  man's  spiritual  departure  from 
his  Father's  presence.  He  forsakes  the  Bible ;  which 
is  an  abandonment  of  both  the  law  and  the  Gospel. 
He  tm-ns  away  from  prayer  and  the  society  of  the 
godly.- 

"  Kot  many  days  after;"  there  was  a  little  interval 
while  the  purpose  rested  in  his  heart,  yet  unexecuted. 
Soon,  however,  it  put  on  an  outward  form.  And  God 
lets  man  make  the  trial  of  finding  happiness  apart  from 
him  ;  but,  only  once  in  an  eternity  does  he  permit  any 
individual  to  make  it.  We  still  follow  the  current  of 
the  story,  to  see, 

3.  The  misery  into  which  it  plunges  him.  Suffer- 
ings are  of  two  kinds.     Tlie  one  pertains  to  man  as  a 


302  LECTUKE    XX. 

spirit  made  for  alliance  with  God ;  with  vast  desires 
and  capacities.  This  highest,  noblest  part  of  man's 
nature  suifers  when  it  is  cut  off  from  God,  and  pre- 
vented from  exercising  love,  confidence,  obedience,  and 
communion  toward  God.  It  is  the  life  that  is  fed,  "  not 
by  bread,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God."  Tlie  sensibility  of  the  soul  to  this  form 
of  suffering  may  be  deadened  ;  and  yet  it  is  a  misera- 
ble state.  Many  a  child  thinks  he  is  happy  when  he 
has  ceased  to  love  his  parents.  Ask  him,  and  he  will 
tell  you,  he  is  not  conscious  of  suffering.  But  you  call 
it  a  wretched  state.  A  maniac  may  insist  that  he  is  in 
a  palace  ;  and  that  his  dungeon  is  a  splendid  reception- 
hall  ;  while  you  know  he  is  in  a  pitiable  state.  A  Hindoo 
holds  up  his  arm  until  it  loses  its  sensibility  and  its 
power  of  motion.  Is  he  happy  because  he  is  not  con- 
scious of  his  dreadful  state  ?  This  form  of  suffering  is 
consistent  with  abounding  in  various  kinds  of  content- 
ment. The  other  form  consists  in  losing  the  lower 
sources  of  enjoyment;  property,  health,  and  friends; 
which  throws  the  soul  back  on  the  consciousness  of  its 
poverty.  Some  have  reached  the  sense  of  spiritual 
want,  even  while  enjoying  all  earthly  good.  They  be- 
gin to  discover  that  they  have  forsaken  God  the  foun- 
tain of  living  waters,  and  hewn  out  to  themselves  "bro- 
ken cisterns  that  can  hold  no  water."  They  have  gone 
"  away  into  a  far  country."  Ah,  that  far  country  ! 
There  is  no  God  there  ;  no  prayer,  nor  praise  ;  no  Sa- 
viour, no  sanctification,  no  hope,  no  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Devils  love  to  dwell  there.  And  are  you  pass- 
ing your  youth  there  ;  and  shall  death  come  and  find 
you  there  ?     Poor  Byron  exclaims  : 


THE    LOST    SON    KESTOEED.  303 

"  My  days  are  in  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf; 
The  fruit  and  flower  of  love  are  gone. 
The  worm,  the  canker,  and  the  grief 
Are  left  to  me  alone." 

Some  do  not  begin  to  know  their  spiritual  poverty, 
until  they  lose  their  earthly  good.  "When  the  wan- 
derer had  wasted  all  his  property,  then  there  began  to 
be  a  mighty  famine  in  that  land.  "  Then  shall  your 
want  come  upon  you  as  an  armed  man."  The  soul  is 
now  brought  to  feel  that  it  cannot  live  without  God'a 
forgiveness,  his  love,  communion  with  him,  sanctifica- 
tion,  and  hope  in  Christ. 

But  the  sad  story  of  the  departure  is  not  yet  closed. 
We  have  yet  another  stage  to  contemplate  ; 

4.  The  false  stejps  he  takes  to  extricate  himself.  He 
ought  to  have  retraced  his  steps,  and  to  have  returned 
directly  home.  Men  disappointed  in  the  world,  men 
weary  of  themselves,  and  conscious  of  guilt  and  de- 
pravity, men  dreading  the  wrath  of  God,  ought  imme- 
diately to  return  to  him  by  Christ.  But  we  find  that 
the  first  stage  of  conviction  does  not,  ordinarily,  change 
the  original  purpose  of  living  without  God.  Hence 
there  is  a  temporary  shifting,  to  avoid  the  painful  sense 
of  want ;  a  trying  to  help  one's  self.  Pride  is  yet  un- 
subdued. Self-confidence  yet  leads  the  soul  to  look  out 
for  itself.  This  is  strongly  described  by  the  old  pro- 
phets. Amos  says  from  God  (iv.  6,  7,  8) :  "  And  I  also 
have  given  you  cleanness  of  teeth  in  all  your  cities,  and 
want  of  bread  in  all  your  places  :  yet  have  ye  not  re- 
turned unto  me,  saith  the  Lord.  And  also  I  have  with- 
holden  the  rain  from  you  ;  and  yet  have  ye  not  returned 
unto  me,  saith  the  Lord." 

But  perhaps  some  will  say,  "the  parable  fails  to 


804  LECTURE   XX. 

meet  my  case,  because  I  have  never  gone  into  dissipa 
tion  and  riotous  living."  They,  however,  misapprehend 
its  intention.  It  was  designed,  subordinately,  to  show, 
not  only  that  no  distance  in  this  life  from  God,  is  too 
great ;  but  also,  that  the  natural  tendency  of  all  de- 
partures from  God  is  the  same  ;  and  thus,  with  fearful 
exactness,  it  meets  every  case. 

The  first  discovery  of  our  want  usually  drives  us 
farther  away  from  God.  He  "went,  and  joined  him- 
self to  a  citizen  of  that  country."  This  is  plunging  still 
deeper  into  misery,  guilt  and  shame.  He  joined  him- 
self to  a  citizen  of  that  country ;  one  at  home  there,  liv- 
ing in  that  far-off  land.  Thus  some,  under  the  convic- 
tion of  sin,  fly  to  scepticism  or  to  scoffing.  Does  that, 
wanderer,  bring  you  home  ;  does  that  give  you  peace  ? 
Who  is  that  citizen  you  substitute  for  God  ?  Do  you 
know  who  is  his  King?  Others  take  up  with  efforts  at 
reformation  in  various  ways.  That  would  be  well  if 
they  would  not  rest  there.  Tlie  purpose  to  reform  is 
indispensable.  But  it  does  not  bring  you  home.  Busi- 
ness, political  entei'prises,  amusements,  dissipation  and 
travel,  often  are  resorted  to  as  a  substitute  for  conver- 
sion. This  citizen,  however,  "  sent  him  into  his  field  to 
feed  swine."  ISTow  he  becomes  a  servant,  and  a  feeder 
of  swine.  He  would  fain  have  relieved  his  gnawing 
hunger  with  husks.  But  husks  are  not  good  for  man. 
And  yet  all  he  feeds  upon,  out  of  Christ,  is  husks. 
"What  a  change  for  this  young  man  !  He  has  forsaken 
his  father,  refused  to  be  a  son,  and  so  must  become  a 
slave.  Whosoever  will  not  serve  God,  must  serve  the 
devil.  He  would  not  live  in  the  palace,  and  must  then 
go  among  the  brutes.  He  refuses  to  dwell  among 
princes,  and  must  live  with  dumb  beasts.     He  refuses 


THE   LOST    SON   KESTOEED.  305 

to  feed  on  angels'  bread,  and  must  eat  the  swines'  husks. 
The  beast  is  predominant,  the  angel  is  lost.  Oh  what 
a  state  !  He  feeds,  but  hungers ;  he  wants,  but  no  man 
gives. 

This  is  the  dark,  and  humbling  side  of  the  picture. 
"We  now  contemplate, 

n.  The  Retukn  ;  which  presents  itself  to  us  in 
three  successive  stages :  reflection,  resolution,  and  ac- 
tion. 

1.  Reflection.  "  He  came  to  himself,"  and  turned 
the  matter  over.  Reflection  is  indispensable  to  the  ac- 
tion of  truth  on  the  mind.  Sin  is  departing  from  God 
and  self.  It  is  delusion,  or  insanity.  And  the  fii*st 
step  of  recovery  is  reflection.  He  begins  to  think  upon 
these  moving  themes — his  father ;  the  home  of  his  child- 
hood ;  his  own  foolish  conduct.  He  compares  his 
situation  with  that  of  the  servants.  The  last  change  he 
sees  to  have  been  even  worse  than  the  first.  Your  ]-e- 
flections  should  embrace  these  points, — what,  and  where 
you  are.  Compare  yourself  with  angels  and  saints  in 
heaven.  Why  are  you  not  as  holy  and  as  happy  as 
they  ?  What  are  your  prospects  ?  How  may  you  re- 
turn home  ?    The  second  step  is  : 

2.  Resolution.  "  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  father." 
This  was  a  wise,  but  painful  decision.  And  hence  here 
is  another  road  where  poor  human  nature  turns  aside 
from  God  and  salvation.  Some  go  "  to  a  citizen  of  that 
country ; "  some  stay  with  the  swine  contentedly ;  deny- 
ing that  they  need  any  better  portion.  He,  however, 
resolves  to  arise ;  depart ;  go  in  rags ;  confess,  and  not 
palliate  his  conduct ;  submit  to  degradation ;  and  cast 
himself  on  his  father's  merey.     Then  follows, 


306  LECLUKE    XX. 

3.  Action.  He  goes.  His  pride  is  subdued.  His 
self-conceit  is  destroyed  ;  his  soul,  weary  of  wandering. 
His  filial  aifections  returned  as  lie  resolved  to  confess 
and  forsake  liis  sin.  "  Against  thee,  thee  only  have  I 
sinned." 

This  was  a  heavy  burden  to  carry  on  so  sad  and  un- 
promising a  journey.  He  knew  not  how  he  should  be 
received  ;  he  must  go,  reflecting  on  the  past ;  recalling 
the  memories  of  childhood,  as  he  retraced  his  steps 
through  roads  once  familiar  to  him.  Thus  must  we 
make  our  way  back  to  our  heavenly  Father. 

There  remains  then  one  more  stage, 

HI.  The  Reception. 

If  we  had  never  heard  this  story  before,  there  is 
probably  not  one  of  us  who  would  not  await  with  in- 
terest the  opening  of  the  next  scene.  But  let  us  re- 
member that  this  is  not  a  romance,  written  to  amuse  us, 
accomplishing  its  end  when  curiosity  is  awakened  and 
satisfied.  It  was  designed  to  convey  to  the  human  race 
one  of  those  facts  which  is  to  them  of  supreme  import- 
ance. The  whole  interest  of  the  story  concentrates 
here.  However  frequently  we  may  have  contemplated 
it,  and  though  unaided  by  novelty,  let  us  earnestly  re- 
turn to  it.     Here  we  see, 

1.  The  unchanged  affection  of  the /"ather.  He  saw 
the  son  yet  a  great  way  ofi:'.  Kow,  what  emotion  is  awa- 
kened in  his  heart,  by  the  sight?  Is  justice,  or  mercy 
predominant?  Is  the  sense  of  injury,  righteous  indig- 
nation, holy  contempt  now  indulged  ;  or,  does  parental 
love,  pity,  forgiveness  rule  in  that  heart?  These  are 
probably  the  inquiries  now  agitating  that  young  man's 
weary  spirit.     And  the  answers  to  them  make  the  dif- 


THE    LOST    SON    RESTOKED.  307 

ference  between  life  and  death.  The  nnivtrse  has  now 
to  him  no  retreat  but  that  dear  domestic  sj)ot.  K  those 
doors  are  opened  to  him  ;  if  a  generons  welcome  awaits 
him  there ;  if  his  shattered  bark  can  now  moor  in  that 
peaceful  haven,  all  is  well.  If  not,  his  doom  is  sealed. 
And  do  you  know  that  to-day  that  prodigal  is  seated 
there  among  you  ?  You  are  listening  with  mere  curi- 
osity, at  a  comment  on  this  story.  He  is  a  prisoner  on 
trial  for  his  life  ;  watching  the  foreman  of  the  jury  as 
he  rises  to  return  the  verdict :  guilty,  or  not  guilty, 
A  word,  a  look  now  turns  the  scale  of  destiny  with  him. 
Oh  what  a  word  then  is  this  !  "  But  when  he  was  yet 
a  great  way  off,  his  father  saw  him  and  had  compas- 
sion ; "  (eo-TrXay^u/o-^T; ;  his  vitals  moved  ;  his  heart 
beat  quick  ;  this  is  the  sense  of  the  term.) 

Yes,  sinner,  that  is  it ;  he  saw  him  afar  off,  and  had 
compassion.  That  is  the  greatest  fact  to  you  just  now, 
in  the  universe.  There  is  justice,  high,  inflexible,  dread- 
ful, in  God.  But  he  has  satisfied  its  holy  demands  ;  and 
now  to  every  returning  spirit  his  compassion  can  flow 
out,  unobstructed.  You  are  yet  a  great  way  off.  Your 
ignorance  of  God,  of  yourself,  of  your  own  sinfulness,  yet 
separates  you.  Penitence  is  feeble,  resolution  is  weak, 
and  yet  you  have  returned  ;  you  have  forsaken  the  far 
country,  and  trodden  back  your  weary  steps.  You 
have  left  companions,  husks  and  swine,  with  that  cruel 
citizen  who  mocked  your  misery.  You  have  come 
within  sight  of  your  father's  mansion,  and  he  is  moved 
with  compassion.     Let  us  now  observe, 

2.  The  expressions  of  it.  "He  ran."  Kunning  be- 
fits young  men.  The  movement  does  not  become  the 
dignity  and  gravity  of  age  ;  and  yet  the  most  venera- 
ble father  may  run  to  greet  the  long-lost  child.      He 


308  LECTURE    XX. 

will,  if  lie  have  cordially,  fully  forgiven  the  prodigal, 
in  his  heart  This  father  had.  And  that  means  to 
say,  God  has.  Yet  it  should  be  said,  there  is  not  al- 
ways the  same  expression  of  it.  Joseph  was  a  type  of 
Christ.  He  found  it  necessary  to  continue  the  severer 
process  long  after  he  had  forgiven  his  brothers.  But 
his  love  was  such  that  he  could  scarcely  restrain  his 
gushing  tears,  amid  the  stern  reserve  he  maintained. 
"  He  embraced  the  son."  Tlie  kiss,  among  the  orien- 
tals, was  the  token  and  pledge  of  reconciliation.  When 
Absalom  had  returned  from  his  exile  he  came  to  the 
king,  and  bowed  himself  on  his  face,  to  the  ground ; 
and  the  king  kissed  Absalom.  "  God  is  in  Christ  re- 
conciled." He  ordered  the  best  robe  to  be  substituted 
for  his  tattered  garments.  Some  say,  as  it  is  in  the 
Greek,  "  the  first  robe ; "  that  it  means,  "  reinstate  him 
in  his  original  position  and  rights."  But  he  took  all 
that  he  could  claim,  when  he  abandoned  his  father. 
And  now  he  had  nothing  but  the  badges  of  his  poverty, 
and  could  not  claim  the  poorest  garment  in  the  house. 
Every  thing  had  been  wasted,  that  his  spendthrift  hands 
could  seize.  There  was  but  one  treasure  left  him  in  the 
universe.  And  to  teach  him  the  worth  of  it  was  the 
end  of  all  this  discipline.  Tliat  treasure  was  his  father's 
unchanging  love. 

When  Pharaoh  set  Joseph  over  all  his  kingdom, 
and  made  him  lord  in  the  palace,  he  took  off  his  ring 
from  his  hand,  and  put  it  upon  Joseph's  hand,  and  ar- 
rayed him  in  robes  of  fine  linen,  and  put  a  gold  chain 
upon  his  neck.  These  were  the  external  tokens  of  that 
honor  to  which  he  wished  to  raise  him.  And  so  God 
welcomes,  adopts,  clothes  and  adorns  every  truly  re- 
penting and  returning  sinner.     He  has  now  received 


THE    LOST   SON    EESTORED.  309 

garments  fit  for  the  king's  son  ;  lie  has  brilliant  orna- 
ments. His  feet  are  shod  with  the  preparations  of  the 
Gospel  of  peace,  and  he  is  prepared  to  run  in  the  way 
of  his  father's  commandments;  where  he  shall  run 
without  weariness,  and  walk  without  fainting.  The 
father's  joy  flows  over,  on  every  side.  He  orders  a 
feast.  Joy  is  social,  communicative  ;  it  gains  by  giv- 
ing ;  it  increases  by  scattering.  The  fatted  calf,  kept 
for  the  greatest  occasions,  must  be  killed  and  cooked. 
The  gloom  and  dulness  of  the  old  mansion  must  give 
way ;  music  and  dancing  (not  performed  by  the  guests, 
but  by  hired  persons)  must  entertain  the  young.  Why, 
what  means  all  this !  Has  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal 
deigned  to  come  there  ?  Yes,  exclaims  the  father,  it  is 
more  than  a  prince ;  it  is  a  dead  son  come  forth  from 
the  grave.  Look  at  him ;  see  his  mother's  smile  ;  look 
at  him,  he  is  bone  of  my  bone  ;  he  is  part  of  my  soul. 
I  have  wept  through  weary  nights  for  him.  Long  and 
painfully  have  I  prayed  for  him.  It  is  my  son.  Go  to 
king  David,  if  you  would  understand  my  feelings. 
Hear  him  as  he  walks  and  weeps  in  the  chamber  above 
the  gate  of  the  city  of  his  exile  ;  "  O  my  son  Absalom  ; 
my  son,  my  son  Absalom  :  would  God  I  had  died  for 
thee  ;  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  !  " 

Hearer,  I  pause  ;  human  feelings  are  weak  ;  paren- 
tal love  partakes  of  our  common  infirmities.  But  Jesus 
says  joy  penetrates  heaven  at  the  return  of  a  sinner. 
He  says  it  goes  to  the  throne.     See  now, 

3.  The  effects  of  this  reception.  There  are  two 
things  noticeable.  He  is  full  in  his  confession.  And 
when  he  is  forgiven,  it  but  makes  his  repentance  and 
confession  the  more  full,  earnest  and  tender. 

And  see  how  true  humility  manifests  itself.    He  had 


310  LECTUKE   XX. 

resolved  to  offer  himself  as  a  hired  servant,  unworthy  to 
be  recognized  as  a  son.  But  now  when  he  sees  that  the 
father  will  place  him  again  among  the  sons,  he  consents 
to  go  there.  True  humility  goes  as  high  as  God  will 
place  it.  False  humility  and  pride  alike  miss  that  deli- 
cate line.  When  Louis  XIY.  would  put  the  politeness 
of  Chesterfield  to  the  test,  he  stood  at  his  carriage-door 
and  made  a  signal  for  the  nobleman  to  enter  before 
him ;  who  instantly  obeyed.  That,  said  the  king,  is 
a  more  refined  politeness  than  most  men  would  have 
manifested.  He  would  not  refuse  an  honor  tendered 
by  a  sovereign. 

"Wanderer,  is  your  exile  painful  to  you?  That  is 
unspeakably  better  than  contentment.  If  you  make 
enough  money,  and  live  enough  according  to  your 
tastes  to  make  you  contented,  you  may  die  in  exile. 
"Wanderer,  do  you  know  that  you  are  feeding  on  husks  ? 
If  you  think  them  the  proper  nourishment  of  an  immor- 
tal nature ;  if  you  call  this  far-off  country  your  home, 
your  rest,  then  the  prospects  of  a  return  are  dark  and 
discouraging. 

Has  afiliction  followed  afiiiction  ?  Then  a  merciful 
hand  is  dealing  with  you  ?  There  is  a  hand  guiding  all 
the  complex  machinery  of  human  life.  And  he  who 
disturbs  your  quiet  here,  would  have  you  know  that 
this  is  not  your  rest. 

Is  one  wanderer  here  wishing  to  return  ?  Let  noth- 
ing prevent  the  formation  of  that  purpose ;  "  I  will 
arise,  and  go  to  my  Father."  If  you  have  made  the 
resolution,  let  nothing  prevent  its  immediate  execution. 
Pride  may  make  you  hesitate, — ^your  clothes — your  old 
companions — the  elder  brother  may  be  the  obstacle. 
Fear  may  prevent.      But   read  that  twentieth  verse 


THE   LOST   SON    KESTORED.  311 

again.  See  that  young  man  trembling,  ragged,  "wi-etclied, 
as  he  enters  the  outer  gate.  What  struggling  doubts 
and  fears  distract  him  !  "  How  will  my  father  receive 
me  ;  will  he  spurn  me  from  his  presence,  as  he  justly 
may?  But  lo,  the  father  sees  him  "a  great  way  off 
— has  compassion — runs — falls  on  his  neck — ^kisses — 
forgives  —  welcomes  —  clothes  —  adorns  —  adopts  him 
anew !  "     Come,  brother,  come  home. 


PAKT  m. 

THE    CHUECH    PRODUCED   BY    THE    GOSPEli 


§  1.    Its  Influence  on  Society. 

Lect.      XXI.  The  light  of  the  world— The  Church  a  blessing. 
§  2.    Its  Imperfections. 

Ltd.    XXII.  The  Tares  and  Wheat — "Visible  Church  imperfect. 
§  3.   Transfer. 

Led.  XXIII,  The   Vineyard — Visible   Church   transferred    to    tha 
Gentiles. 
§  4.   Its  Ultimate  Destiny. 

Led.  XXIV,  The  Mustard-seed— The  Church  will  fill  the  earth. 


14 


LECTURE  XXI. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WOELB  ;  OR,  THE  CHURCH  A  BLESSING  TO 
THE  WORLD. 

Matt.  v.  14.     "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world." 

The  supreme  object  of  tlie  infinite,  invisible,  and 
ever-blessed  God,  seems  to  be  the  manifestation  of  his 
glory  to  his  intelligent  creatures.  And  as  material 
light  reveals  material  things  to  man,  so,  whatever 
manifests  God,  is  called  light.  If  we  take  this  cine 
to  the  labyrinth  of  creation.  Providence  and  revelation, 
it  guides  us  through  them  all,  relieves  us  from  many- 
perplexing  doubts,  and  suggests  expanded  conceptions 
of  the  unity,  grandeur  and  kindness  developed  by 
the  stupendous  plan.  To  know  God  in  his  works  is 
true  science  :  to  know  him  in  his  providence  is  still 
more  important.  But  to  know  him  in  Christ  is  indis- 
pensable. And  yet  the  world  in  its  wisdom  knows  him 
not.  Tliere  is  much  wisdom  among  men ;  but  it  K- 
holds  not  his  beauty  and  majesty,  his  justice,  goodness, 
wisdom,  holiness  and  truth  laying  the  foundations  of 
the  earth,  and  establishing  the  heavens.  Providence 
still  walks  among  us,  but  his  wonderful  footsteps  are 
lot  seen ;  his  hand  is  not  recognized.     His  word  stiP. 


316  LECTURE   XXI. 

shines  ;  luminous  with  his  unveiled  attributes,  with  the 
history  of  his  providence,  the  statutes  of  his  empire, 
the  counsels  and  purposes  of  his  will,  the  mediation  of 
his  Son,  the  threatenings  of  his  wrath,  the  invitations 
and  promises  of  his  mercy  ;■ — and  yet  these  have  not 
satisfied  his  goodness.  There  must  be  one  other  chan- 
nel of  light.  And  so  he  says  to  the  collective  Church 
and  to  its  individual  members, — "  Ye  are  the  light  of 
the  world.  A  city  that  is  set  on  a  hill  cannot  be  hid. 
Neither  do  men  light  a  candle  and  put  it  under  a 
bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick  ;  and  it  giveth  light  unto 
all  that  are  in  the  house.  Let  your  light  so  shine 
before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and 
glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  Tlie  doctrine 
of  this  passage  is,  that, 

Chrisfs  disciples  are  Ijound  to  make  God  manifest 
to  the  world.  Their  obligation  arises  from  the  fact  that 
God  desires  it ;  and  that  this  is  an  end  at  which  he  has 
supremely  aimed  in  every  thing  he  has  done  on  their 
behalf.     That  this  is  his  desire  and  intention  appears, 

I.  Fkom  his  declarations  concerning  the  chtjrch 

AND  its  members,  AND  FROM  HIS  EMPLOYISIENT  OF  THEM. 

Nothing  can  show  this  more  strongly  than  the  posi 
tion  of  the  Church  in  the  family  of  Noah  during  the 
deluge.  What  an  exhibition  to  subsequent  generations 
of  the  power,  goodness,  and  fidelity  of  God !  So  it 
was  with  Abraham  and  the  Church  in  his  house.  He 
was  a  sun  rising  on  those  benighted  nations  ;  revealing 
to  them  the  one  living  and  true  God,  in  his  holiness, 
condescension,  goodness,  and  power.  Joseph  was  the 
light  of  Egypt ;  representing  Jehovah  in  the  midst  of  a 
nation  of  gross  idolaters.    Israel  marching  out  of  Egypt, 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE   WOKLD.  31Y 

and  entering  the  land  of  promise,  was  a  light  in  the 
desert.  Tlirongh  that  people  God  showed  forth  his 
pnrpose  of  establishing  a  kingdom  in  this  world,  and 
of  maintaining  it  against  the  power  and  craft  of  Satan. 
And  even  in  their  captivity  they  were  still  God's  wit- 
nesses. Mordecai,  Daniel  and  his  companions,  Ezra 
and  ISTehemiah  were  lights  shining  brightly  amid 
Babylon's  darkness.  Indeed  Daniel  was  made  to  catch 
the  light  of  God's  purposes,  hidden  yet  from  other  men, 
and  reflect  it  on  the  proud  spirit  of  earth's  greatest 
despot ;  and  reveal  to  him,  not  only  what  God  is,  but 
what  he  intended  to  do.  See  what  light  shone  from 
the  conduct  of  these  children  of  God  when  a  benighted 
pagan  monarch  saw  their  bold  fidelity  and  dignified 
reliance  on  God,  and  his  faithfulness  in  rescuing  them ! 
But  we  may  now  pursue  this  interesting  view  of  the  Old 
Testament  Church  no  farther.  "  Glorious  things  were 
spoken  of  Zion,  the  city  of  the  Lord.  God  was  in  the 
midst  of  her."  Her  light  beamed  out,  like  the  lamp 
of  Koah's  ark ;  the  only  gleaming  over  a  vast,  dark, 
and  desolate  waste  of  waters.  And  yet  the  light 
Avhicli  she  was  able  to  reflect  was  comparatively  dim. 
When  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  had  once  arisen, 
then  the  planets  that  he  had  set  in  the  spiritual 
firmament  were  able  to  shed  a  brighter  light  upon 
a  benighted  world.  And  if  saints  under  the  Old 
Testament  were  bound  to  shine  brightly,  we  ought 
to  be  as  much  brighter  than  Moses,  and  Abraham, 
Daniel  and  Isaiah,  as  our  situation  is  more  favorable 
than  theirs.  And  it  would  be  a  most  interesting 
journey  to  travel  back  to  the  days  of  the  apostles,  and 
see  where  the  New  Testament  Church  received  the 
light,  and  oegan  to  difiuse  it ;  and  how  through  long 


318  LECTURE   XXI, 

and  dreary  ages  of  declension  and  corruption  there 
were  still  faithful  depositaries  of  the  truth,  who  pre- 
served it  and  perjDetuated  it.  The  manuscripts  of  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  Scriptures  have  been  preserved  by 
faithful  men  in  every  age,  until  printing  was  invented. 
Since  that  day  the  Church  has  set  herself  to  diffuse  the 
pure  word  of  God  in  the  most  faithful  translations  into 
the  languages  of  the  world.  And  the  light  of  God's 
word  is  now  shining  on  the  cabinets  of  kings  ;  on  the 
statute-books  of  the  nations ;  on  their  institutions,  cus- 
toms, philosophy,  literature,  social  life,  family  relations, 
private  life,  and  on  the  personal  characters  of  men.  Tlie 
Church  is  thus  the  light  of  the  world  ;  the  preserver 
of  the  Word  of  God,  and  the  active  instrument  of  its 
diffusion.  Her  sons  are  its  preachers,  and  her  daugh- 
ters its  teachers.  The  Church  has  given  to  the  world, 
from  the  Bible,  all  its  just  notions  of  morality.  To  the 
Bible  and  the  faithful  exposition  of  it  are  we  indebted 
for  all  just  and  rational  notions  of  civil  freedom ;  for 
all  our  hatred  of  slavery,  war,  intemperance  and  cruelty. 
Nothing  can  be  more  parricidal  than  for  men  who  have 
received  all  their  light  and  zeal  from  the  Bible  and  its 
faithful  exposition  by  the  Church  of  God,  to  turn  about 
and  attempt  to  destroy  that  Church,  because  it  does  not 
see  the  wisdom  nor  the  purity  of  their  zeal.  It  remains 
a  fact  of  history  that  the  Church  has  enlightened  the 
conscience  of  mankind ;  and  exerted  instrumentally, 
the  only  truly  healing  power  to  the  diseased  heart  of 
the  world.  Since  this  has  been  the  influence  of  the 
Church,  we  see  that  this  is  a  part  of  our  Lord's  mean- 
ing, when  he  said — ^Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world.  If 
we  pass  from  the  Church  and  its  broad  commission,  tc 
its  individual  members  and  their  more  limited  sphere, 


THE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WOKLD.  319 

we  see  tlie  same  principle.  The  sinner  in  coming  to 
Christ  is  seeking  only  his  own  salvation ;  but  God  in 
drawing  him  is  aiming  at  a  still  greater  object.  No 
man  lighteth  a  candle  and  putteth  it  under  a  bushel, 
but  on  a  candlestick.  Tlie  lamps  of  this  house  are  ar- 
ranged for  the  very  purpose  of  giving  light  to  all  who 
would,  without  them,  be  here  in  darkness.  The  very 
fact  of  your  conversion  to  God  glorified  him  ;  to  angels, 
principalities,  powers  in  heaven,  and  to  men.  In  conver- 
sion "  we  are  a  spectacle  to  men  and  angels."  "  Ye  are 
my  witnesses."  It  exhibits  God's  forbearance,  holiness, 
power,  mercy,  and  truth.  Your  conversion  struck  a 
blow  that  made  hell  tremble.  Your  friends  and  neigh- 
bors saw  it.  You  went  to  work  ;  but  perhaps  too  much 
from  impulse,  and  too  little  from  principle.  Too  few, 
like  Harlan  Page,  "  shine  brighter  and  brighter  to  the 
perfect  day."  Yom*  commission  however  was,  to  go  on 
catching  more  and  more  beams  from  your  Redeemer's 
face,  more  of  the  light  of  the  celestial  city,  and  throw 
it  back  on  a  benighted  world.  "  JSTeither  do  men  light 
a  candle  to  put  it  under  a  bushel."  Surely  not ;  nor 
does  a  God,  infinitely  wise.  He  made  the  sun,  and 
filled  it  with  light,  and  hung  it  up  in  the  centre  of  this 
apartment  of  his  house,  to  give  light  to  all.  His  inten- 
tion in  the  case  is  obvious  ;  and  if  the  sun  were  a  volun- 
tary and  responsible  creature,  as  each  of  us  is,  how 
terrible  would  be  his  guilt  for  refusing  to  shine  !  And 
every  planet  God  has  made  ;  the  greater  hght  to  rule 
the  day,  and  the  lesser  lights  to  rule  the  night.  So  has 
he  set  his  Church ;  so  has  he  set  each  member  of  it. 
Our  responsibility  then  arises  from  his  desires  and  in- 
tentions concerning  us. 


820  LECTUEE   XXI. 

n.  He  has  qualified  its  foe  it. 

1.  He  has  given  us  natural  faculties  adapted  to 
exert  an  influence  on  other  minds.  We  have  reasoning 
powers  ;  a  capacity  of  improvement ;  a  vast  control 
of  the  material  world  ;  the  pen  ;  the  press  ;  the  purse  ; 
the  power  of  speech  ;  and  the  affections  of  the  soul  to 
quicken  and  employ  in  the  work  of  enlightening  the 
world. 

2.  He  has  renewed  and  sanctified  and  elevated  us^ 
and  increased  our  moral  power  to  do  good.  Examine  a 
lamp  ;  it  is  admirably  fitted  to  give  light  and  chase 
away  darkness.  So,  if  you  observe  a  Christian,  you 
will  find  his  Maker's  intention. 

His  perceptions  and  convictions  are  changed.  He 
sees  the  truth,  loves  it,  and  knows  it.  He  sees  the 
verity  of  God's  word,  and  its  infinite  superiority  to 
every  thing  else.  This  is  from  God,  and  qualifies  him 
to  command  it.  His  motives  are  changed.  He  has  been 
converted  to  love  God.  "  Hallowed  be  thy  name  "  has 
now  become  his  daily  prayer.  He  sees  how  low  it  is  to 
live  for  self.  He  no  longer  asks  what  is  agreeable,  or 
merely  what  is  respectable  or  for  his  own  interest ;  but 
what  is  for  God's  glory  and  man's  highest  good  ? 

His  character  is  changed.  He  is  a  new  man  ;  "  old 
things  are  passed  away,  and  all  things  are  become  new." 
It  is  a  striking  phenomenon  to  see  a  person  so  changed, 
become  so  elevated,  so  heavenly,  so  much  like  Christ, 
that  he  is  said  to  partake  of  the  "  divine  nature  ;  "  that 
is,  supremely  holy,  and  actually  benevolent.  He  is  a 
traveller  disencumbering  himself  of  every  thing  that 
could  impede  his  heavenward  journey.  He  is  a  peni- 
tent, tenderly  mourning  over  his  sins.  He  is  heavenly, 
and  not  earthly.     His  treasures  are  in  heaven  ;  and  if 


THE   LIGHT   OF   THE   WOKLD.  321 

you  find  him  a  diligent  tradesman,  you  will  Imd  him 
more  diligent  in  laying  up  treasures  in  heaven  than  on 
earth.  If  you  find  him  enjoying  any  amusements  in 
common  with  others,  you  will  find  him  much  oftener 
and  much  happier  in  the  assembly  where  his  God  is  to 
be  praised,  and  where  he  is  to  pray  for  his  perishing 
fellow-men.  Look  at  him,  men  of  the  world ;  he  is  a 
converted  man  !  You  may  have  morality,  too ;  but 
his  is  on  a  deeper,  broader  foundation  than  yours.  He 
has  morality,  and  piety  too.  See  him  ;  he  is  illumin- 
ated by  Jesus  Christ  "  the  Sun  of  Eighteousness."  He 
has  the  image  of  Christ.  Look  at  him  ;  he  is  on  his 
way  to  heaven  ;  an  earnest  pilgrim,  a  serious  warrior, 
contending  against  the  very  influences  to  which  you 
yield  yourselves.  Look  at  him ;  he  communes  every 
day,  and  often  in  the  day,  with  God.  Is  he  not  a  won- 
der !  Look  at  him  ;  for  you  will  soon  see  the  last  of 
him.  He  is  going  to  heaven  ;  you,  to  hell !  Surely 
God  hath  produced  such  a  phenomenon  in  the  world, 
in  order  to  arrest  its  attention,  and  to  show  that  there 
is  a  God  ;  that  the  Bible  is  true  ;  that  Christ  has  died 
for  sinners  ;  that  he  now  reigns  on  high  ;  that  he  sends 
forth  his  renewing  Spirit.  Surely  he  has  set  these  Chris- 
tians as  torch-bearers  on  the  road  to  heaven  ;  each  one 
of  whom  is  saying  :  "  Here,  keep  close  to  my  footsteps, 
if  you  would  reach  the  kingdom  of  God." 

But  the  intention  of  God  is  seen,  not  only  in  quali- 
fying them,  but  in  locating  them. 

HI.    He  HAS  PLACED  HIS  PEOPLE   IN   THE   MOST   FAVOR- 
ABLE POSITIONS  FOR  ENLIGHTENING  THE  WORLD. 

Men  arrange  lamps  in  the  best  places  for  giving  tlie 
greatest  quantity  of  light. 
14* 


322  LECTUKE   XXI. 

1,  Nmo  look  at  the  Church  of  our  day.  The  truth- 
believing  Church  of  God  is  stronger,  and  more  numerous 
and  wealthy  in  England  and  America  than  anywhere 
else.  We  know  that  a  pure  Christianity  has  caused  this. 
But  what  is  the  ultimate  intention  of  Providence  in  it  ? 
Is  it  not  to  use  the  English  language,  which  is  becoming, 
as  the  Greek  was  in  our  Saviour's  day,  the  language  of 
the  race  ?  has  he  not  so  favored  us  because  our  com- 
merce, our  adventurous  spirit,  our  religious  and  civil 
freedom  enable  us  to  operate  to  the  greatest  advantage 
in  diffusing  light  ?  Rome  has,  I  admit,  a  better  position 
and  machinery  than  we,  for  propagating  darkness.  But 
the  Church  of  God  is  now  so  situated  that  she  can  give 
the  light  to  the  whole  race  within  twenty  years,  if  she  un- 
derstands her  responsibilities  and  privileges.  See,  too, 
how  God  has  disposed  of  individuals.  We  are  all  con- 
spicuous to  somebody.  "  A  city  that  is  set  on  a  hill 
cannot  be  hid."  Some  try  to  escape  this  responsibility. 
One  was  recently  heard  to  exclaim :  "  I  wish  they 
would  cut  me  off  from  the  Church  ;  then  I  could  dance 
without  any  annoyance."  But,  what  if  they  did  ?  You 
do  not  mean  to  give  up  heaven,  and  all  that  God  has 
done  for  you,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  days  of  vain  enjoy- 
ment !  Your  profession  is  not  what  should  cause  you 
shame  ;  but  your  present  state  of  feeling.  You  must 
not  repent  having  joined  the  Church ;  but,  having 
joined  the  world,  after  joining  the  Church. 

The  Christian  is  a  conspicuous  person,  in  his  sphere. 
He  pretends  to  great  things.  He  expects  great  things. 
He  separates  himself  from  the  world ;  meekly,  quietly ; 
but  so  thoroughly  that  the  world  do  not  expect  to 
find  him  in  certain  places,  and  engaged  in  certain 
modes  of  conversation  and  action  which  they  permit  to 


THE    LIGUT    OF   THE    WORLD.  32S 

themselves.  And  even  when  they  persuade  a  Chris- 
tian into  these  places  and  covrses.  they  despise  him  for 
complying. 

He  is  still  a  member  of  a  family  ;  for  it  is  there  his 
light  shines ;  whether  as  master  or  servant,  parent 
or  child.  He  "  giveth  light  nnto  all  that  are  in  the 
house."  He  ic  connected  with  others  in  business.  Here 
his  example,  his  principles,  his  conversation,  are  a  bright 
light.  He  has  a  circle  of  acquaintances  ;  for  God  has 
so-  distributed  his  children  in  the  world,  that  they  can 
reach  both  Cffisar's  household  and  the  peasant's  hut. 
He  has  given  them  the  immense  powers  of  example 
and  of  speech. 

And  it  is  all  to  the  end  that  they  may  shine ;  not 
for  their  glory,  but  his;  for,  the  injunction  is;  "Let 
your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  glorify 
(not  you,  which  is  the  tendency  of  ungodly  morality, 
but)  "  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 

We  can  then  account  for  the  darkness  which  yet 
remains  in  the  world.  The  disciples  of  the  primitive 
Church  swept  over  continents  in  a  lifetime  ;  changing, 
in  three  centuries,  the  face  of  the  world.  Why  then  is 
BO  wide  a  portion  of  the  world  still  in  darkness  ?  Pa- 
ganism, Judaism,  and  Infidelity,  have  recovered  much 
of  their  lost  ground.  Not  only  are  doctrines  lost  sight 
of,  and  errors  substituted  for  truth ;  but  also  the  know- 
ledge of  God  as  Holy  and  Just, — God  as  Redeemer, — 
has  departed  from  men  living  under  the  light  of  the  Gos- 
pel. It  is  not  to  be  carelessly  assigned  to  God's  sov- 
ereign arrangements.  For,  that  would  equally  explain 
and  exculpate  all  evil.  When  we  have  done  all  in  our 
power  to  scatter  the  darkness  of  error  and  unbelief, 
then  we  may  quietly  leave  the  issues  with  a  sovereign 


324:  LECTURE   XXI. 

God.  'Nor  may  we  att  ribute  it  to  tlie  corruptions  of 
the  world ;  nor  to  any  form  of  its  dej)ravity.  It  is  a 
very  unsatisfactory  account  to  give  of  the  faihire  of  a 
medicine  to  heal,  that  the  people  were  sick.  The  ques- 
tion is  :  Why  are  the  sick  not  healed,  when  such  a 
medicine  is  provided  ?  ]^or  may  we  refer  it  to  the 
indifference  of  the  world.  This  indifference  was  dis- 
turbed in  the  apostolic  times.  And  Christianity  lacks 
nothing  now,  which  it  had  then.  It  is  conceded  that 
miracles  are  not  now  needed.  Tliere  is  a  light  in  truth 
and  example,  which  is  better  adapted  than  miracles  to 
affect  our  age.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  the  efficient  agent 
then ;  and  can  be  now.  Christianity  is  now  stronger  in 
means  ;  and  it  has  fewer  obstacles  than  then.  But,  our 
piety  is  less  attractive,  iinpressive,  and  active  than  theirs. 
We  think  much  of  a  little  piety  ;  so  that  our  giants 
are  dwarfs.  We  are  superficial ;  confessing  sin,  with- 
out feeling  its  burden  and  hatefulness  in  detail ;  repent- 
ing, without  brokenness  of  heart ;  renouncing  the  world, 
without  forsaking  it ;  devoting  ourselves  to  God,  with- 
out living  any  more  to  his  glory.  We  are  pushing  off 
to  another  age  the  standard  of  piety  which  our  judg- 
ments approve.  We  need  a  church  composed  of  those 
who  feel  that  they  have  been  redeemed  ;  redeemed  by 
precious  blood ;  who  know  that  they  are  occupying 
the  very  earth  that  has  been  moistened  by  the  tears 
and  blood  of  their  redeeming  Lord.  On  such  a  soil 
what  flowers  of  paradise  might  be  expected  to  gi'ow ! 
We  need  a  church  to  which  we  can  point  a  world 
morally  deranged,  and  say,  "  Look  here  at  the  Church  ! 
this  is  piety."  We  need  a  church,  to  which  we  can 
bring  the  heathen,  and  say  :  "  See  what  kind  of  Chris- 
tianity we  are  aiming  to  introduce  among  you  !  " 


THE    LIGHT    OF   TKE    WOKLD.  326 

Fellow- Christians  I  let  us  arouse  ourselves.  Let  us 
search  the  Scriptures,  not  for  doctrine  alone,  but  to  find 
how  we  can  live  more  fully  for  the  enlightening  of  a 
darkened  world  ;  more  according  to  the  mind  of  God  ; 
how  we  can  accomplish  the  great  ends  of  our  redemp 
tion ;  God's  glory,  our  sanctification,  and  the  conver- 
sion of  men. 

The  first  work  is  personal  and  internal.  Be  good, 
before  you  do  good.  See  where  we  have  lived,  and 
what  we  have  done.  Every  professor  of  religion  is 
like  a  sun,  under  the  sweet  influence  of  whose  example 
and  godly  conversation  every  plant  of  righteousness 
ought  to  flourish.  But,  alas  !  the  suns  have  gone  into 
a  voluntary  and  long  eclipse  ;  and  every  thing  in  the 
world  of  their  moral  influence  is  dying,  for  want  of 
light.  Every  professor  professes  to  be  a  taper  on  the 
dark  path  of  wandering  souls.  But,  alas  !  The  tapers 
have  been  put  under  a  bushel.  Every  member  of  the 
Church  professes  to  be  a  light-house,  on  a  dangerous 
coast.  But,  alas  !  they  have  neglected  to  keep  their 
lights  steadily  burning  ;  and  dreadful  wrecks  are  every 
where  lining  the  coast ! 

Let  us  arouse  ourselves  to  imitate  primitive  ex- 
amples. 

Noah  honored  God's  testimony  by  building  his  ark 
in  pleasant  weather.  He  was  alarmed,  when  sight  and 
reason  found  no  occasion  for  it.  He  was  alanned  for 
himself,  his  family,  the  world.  If  you  live  a  hundi-ed 
and  twenty  years,  let  the  world  still  hear  you  "  ham- 
mering at  your  ark." 

Abraham  forsook  the  world  ;  he  sacrificed  Isaac ; 
being  "  strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  to  God." 


326  LECTUBE    XXI. 

Jacob,  Elijah,  the  Syrophenician  woman  honored 
his  faithfulness  and  mercy,  as  the  hearer  of  prayer. 

Moses  chose  God  as  his  portion,  and  stamped  "  van- 
ity "  on  the  glory  of  Egypt. 

David  with  his  sling,  illustrated  the  faithfulness  of 
his  God. 

Daniel,  and  his  companions,  glorified  him  before 
the  proud  Pontiff  of  Bel,  the  autocrat  of  Babylon. 

The  earlier  Christians  had  a  simple  and  elevated 
piety,  which  impressed  the  world.  Paul  counted 
not  his  trials  any  thing,  nor  his  life  dear,  so  that  he 
might  turn  men's  attention  to  the  grace  of  his  Ke- 
deemer. 

We  have  immense  power  for  doing  good.  "We  can 
awaken  men's  consciences,  by  showing  them  in  our 
lives  the  difference  between  a  dutiful  and  an  undutiful 
child ;  a  friend,  and  an  enemy  of  God.  Our  manner 
of  living,  our  general  conversation,  our  direct  conversa- 
tion, will  show  the  reality  of  conversion.  There  is  a 
loveliness  in  piety,  a  happiness  and  joy  in  faith  and 
hope  that  the  world  will  see  when  moving  daily  unob- 
trusively before  their  eyes. 

The  power  of  social  influence  for  good  or  evil  is 
immense.  You  are  either  advancing  or  obstructing 
the  work  of  God  in  the  world.  Take  simply  this  view 
of  it.  While  you  are  listening  to  this  sermon,  many  in 
this  congregation  are  saying  :  "  Tliis  is  a  high  view  of 
Christian  character  and  influence ;  but,  is  it  true  ? " 
And  they  begin  to  think  of  you  and  your  daily  deport- 
ment. As  they  remember  you,  their  belief  is  either 
confirmed  or  enfeebled.  They  either  think  that  some 
of  you  are  insincere,  or  else  that  you  exhibit  all  there 
is,  of  the  loveliness,  holiness,  and  power  of  the  Gospel 


THE    LIGHT   OF   THE    WOKLD.  327 

of  Christ ;  and  it  seems  then  to  them  very  mucli  like 
the  spirit  of  the  world ;  or,  they  say,  this  is  a  reality 
God  has  converted  some  of  our  number  that  they 
may  show  us  how  much  superior  is  piety  to  un- 
godliness ;  faith,  to  unbelief ;  benevolence,  to  sel- 
fishness. 


LECTUKE  XXII. 

THE  TAEE8  IN  THE  WHEAT  FIELD ;  OR,  THE  VISIBLE  CHURCH,  AOT) 
ITS   IMPERFECTA  ESS. 

Matt,  xiii.  24-30.  36-43. — "  Another  parable  put  he  forth  untc 
them,  saying,  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  likened  unto  a  man  which  sowed 
good  seed  in  his  field  :  But  while  men  slept,  his  enemy  came  and  sowed 
tares  among  the  wheat,  and  went  his  way.  But  when  the  blade  was 
sprung  up,  and  brought  forth  fruit,  then  appeared  the  tares  also.  So  the 
servants  of  the  householder  came  and  said  unto  him,  Sir,  didst  not  thou 
sow  good  seed  in  thy  field  ?  from  whence  then  hath  it  tares  ?  He  said  unto 
them.  An  enemy  hath  done  this.  The  servants  said  unto  him,  Wilt  thou 
then  that  we  go  and  gather  them  up  ?  But  he  said.  Nay ;  lest  while  ye 
gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root  up  also  the  wheat  with  them.  Let  both  grow 
together  until  the  harvest :  and  in  the  time  of  harvest  I  will  say  to  the 
reapers,  Gather  ye  together  first  the  tares,  and  bind  them  in  bundles  to 
burn  them  :  but  gather  the  wheat  into  my  barn.  Then  Jesus  sent  tho 
multitude  away,  and  went  into  the  house :  and  his  disciples  came  imto 
him,  saying.  Declare  unto  us  the  parable  of  the  tares  of  the  field.  He  an- 
swered and  said  unto  them.  He  that  soweth  the  good  seed  is  the  Son  of 
man  ;  The  field  is  the  world  ;  the  good  seed  are  the  children  of  the  king- 
dom ;  but  the  tares  are  the  children  of  the  wicked  one ;  The  enemy  that 
sowed  them  is  the  devil ;  the  harvest  is  the  end  of  the  world ;  and  the 
reapers  are  the  angels.  As  therefore  the  tares  are  gathered  and  burned  in 
the  fire ;  so  shall  it  be  in  the  end  of  this  world.  The  Son  of  man  shall 
send  forth  his  angels,  and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  kingdom  all  things 
that  offend,  and  them  which  do  iniquity  ;  And  shall  cast  them  into  a  fur- 
nace of  fire  •  there  shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  Then  shall 
the  righteous  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  Who 
hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  heoi"." 


THE   TARES    IN   THE   WHEAT   FIELD.  329 

A  Holy  Gospel  must  produce  a  lioly  Church,  we 
.?liould  naturally  infer ;  the  kingdom  of  God  brought 
on  earth  must  at  least  keep  its  own  territory  separate 
from  the  domain  of  darkness.  But  history  informs  us 
that  it  is  not  so  ;  and  prophecy  announced  that  this 
was  not  to  be  the  case.  This  parable  is  a  prophetic 
declaration  that  the  Church  of  Christ  on  earth  should 
be  an  imperfect  body. 

Tlie  visible  Church,  or  the  Church  as  a  body  organ- 
ized on  earth,  has  two  kinds  of  imperfection ;  the  per- 
sonal defects  of  the  regenerated,  and  the  membership 
of  unregenerated  persons.  These  imperfections  have, 
in  every  age,  awakened  a  sincere  zeal ;  and  caused  also 
an  unenlightened,  and  even  an  impure  zeal,  to  engage 
^»a  the  work  of  purification.  Tlie  design  of  this  parable 
ic  to  enlighten  and  modify  the  former  ;  and  to  strip  the 
Latter  of  its  plausible  argument. 

Tlie  parable  represents  the  world  as  a  field  in  which 
wheat  has  been  sowed.  In  the  night,  an  enemy  of  the 
owner  has  come  and  sowed  a  degenerate  and  poisonous 
wheat  over  the  other.  This  is  a  form  of  malice  that 
none  of  us  may  ever  have  seen.  But  we  find  the  old 
Roman  law  providing  against  it.  And  to  this  day,  it 
is  done  in  India,  and  even  in  Ireland.*  The  form  of 
this  Lolium  Zizanium,  or  Darnel,  so  closely  resembles 
that  of  the  wheat,  as  to  make  them  difficult  to  separate, 
until  the  two  have  come  to  maturity.  "  Then  appeared 
the  tares  also."  The  weeding  process  would,  therefore, 
do  more  injury  than  good.  In  our  Lord's  explanation 
of  this  parable,  he  informs  us  that  he  is  engaged  in 
bringing  in  truly  converted  persons  into  his  Church ; 

*  Trench  on  Parab.     78. 


830  LECTURE    XXII. 

but  that  Satan  is  at  the  same  time  introducing  unre* 
generated  persons  ;  that  Christ  is  sowing  good  seed  in 
the  hearts  of  his  own  people,  and  Satan  is  sowing  bad 
seed  ;  for  the  seed  here  means  both  principles  and  per- 
sons. In  a  word,  the  great  antagonisiic  works  of  cor- 
rupting and  purifying  the  Church  are  carried  on  contin- 
ually, the  one  by  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  other,  by  Sa- 
tan. The  parable  then  brings  to  view  the  reforaier's  zeal 
springing  from  those  feelings  with  which  this  imperfec- 
tion of  the  Church  is  naturally  regarded.  "  From 
whence  then  hath  it  tares  ? "  is  the  inquiry.  Evil  is  in  the 
world  ;  but  now  we  have  left  the  world,  and  come  to 
the  Church.  There,  too,  the  Lord  says,  we  must  expect 
to  lind  evil  existing  and  active.  And,  he  shows — that 
no  human  vigilance,  zeal  or  diligence,  to  the  end  of  time, 
will  make  tlie  visible  Church  co-extensive  with  the  in- 
visible, and  equally  pure — that  God  forbids  violent 
excommunications  and  persecutions  ; — that  the  final 
excommunication  will  take  place  by  the  agency  of  holy 
angels  ;  and  that  none  but  the  regenerated  and  per- 
fectly sanctified  will  enter  into  the  Church  triumphant. 
We  look  now  at  the  fact : 

I.    No  ZEAL  OR    FIDELITY  WILL    SAVE    THE    ChFRCH    OF 

Christ  from  being  an  imperfect  body  ;   to  the  end  of 

TIME. 

That  the  visible  Church  is  intended,  although  the 
expression  is :  "The  field  is  the  world,"  may  be  seen 
from  the  fact  that  the  grain  which  grows  up,  grows  up 
either  wheat,  or  the  false  wheat.  The  figure,  therefore, 
would  not  admit  of  completeness  in  the  parallelism. 
The  field  where  Christ  sows  truth,  or  good  influences, 
is  the  world.     But  of  that,  he  is  not  speaking  here  ;  for, 


THE   TARES    IN    THE    WHEAT    FIELD.  331 

he  says,  tlie  good  seed  means  good  men.  The  field 
where  his  w^heat  grows,  is  the  Church.  And  the  cor- 
rnption  of  that  Church  is  the  object  supremely  desired 
bj  its  arch-enemy, 

1.  What  is  then  the  iniperfectness  of  Christ s  visihle 
Church  f  I  have  ah-eady  observed  that  it  is  twofokl. 
Christ  wills  the  sanctification  of  his  people  ;  Satan  la- 
bors to  make  them  as  wicked  as  himself.  Christ  desires 
none  to  enter  his  Church,  but  such  as  have  truly  re- 
nounced the  dominion  of  sin,  and  given  themselves  up 
to  his  control  and  care.  Satan  labors  to  bring  those 
into  the  Church  who  still  belong  to  him.  Tlirough  the 
imperfections  of  the  regenerated,  and  the  insincerity  of 
the  unregenerated  members  of  the  Church,  he  does  his 
malignant  work,  more  or  less  effectually.  And  if  we 
search  for  the  cause  of  this,  and  for  the  process  that 
brings  it  about,  we  may  readily  see, 

2.  How  the  Church  is  thus  kept  imperfect.  False 
doctrine  is  one  form  of  satanic  influence.  Tlie  Truth 
both  converts  and  sanctifies  ;  but  Satan  preaches  ano- 
ther gospel.  From  the  beginning  Christ  has  contended 
against  false  prophets,  false  apostles,  or  Antichrist. 
And  these  are  not  opposed  alone  as  bad  men.  They 
are  opposed  as  teachers  of  falsehood.  Tliey  corrupt 
the  Church  with  error.  Elijah,  Jeremiah,  Paul,  and 
our  Lord,  are  continually  waging  war  on  teachers  of 
false  doctrines.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  liberality 
that  sees  no  importance  in  religious  opinions.  In  fact, 
that  is  precisely  a  satanic  doctrine  itself ;  and  seems  to 
be  the  only  one  for  which  some  have  any  zeal.  It  is 
impossible  that  a  church  can  grow  in  holiness  apart 
from  the  pure  truths  of  the  Gospel.     Just  so  far  then  as 


332  LEOTDUE   XXII. 

Satan  succeeds  in  supplanting  God's  truth  by  men's 
speculations,  lie  keeps  the  Church  imperfect. 

Another,  but  negative  source  of  imperfection  is  the 
very  nature  of  regeneration  ;  which  is  not  a  transforma- 
tion to  heavenly  perfection,  but  the  beginning  of  an 
eternal  process  ;  crude  in  its  first  stages ;  making  the 
heart  sincere,  but  leaving  it  encumbered  with  a  vast 
mass  of  false  notions,  wrong  desires,  and  evil  habits. 
Does  any  convert  at  once  love  God  as  he  will  love  Him 
in  heaven  ?  Is  that  first  glow  of  love  in  him  a  pure 
beam  of  light ;  a  gushing  stream,  unstained  and  un- 
mixed as  the  waters  of  heaven  ?  No  ;  alas  !  it  is  sin- 
cere, but  it  is  soiled  with  many  earthly  elements  ;  sedi- 
ments, that  will  settle  to  the  bottom,  ere  it  falls  into 
that  golden,  crystal  sea  of  perfect  love.  But  he  must 
come  into  the  Church ;  it  is  the  very  place  for  him  ;  it 
was  made  for  him.  Will  he  always  honor  the  Church  ? 
"Will  he,  from  this  time,  act  so  as  to  present  only  the 
new  element  of  his  character,  in  the  family,  in  business, 
in  the  social  intercourse  of  life  ?  Will  none  of  the  old 
nature  and  the  old  habits  peep  out  any  where  from  be- 
neath the  new  garment  ?  If  the  world  expects  it,  they 
will  be  disappointed.  If  they  reason  from  it  against 
the  reality  and  the  infinite  importance  of  the  change 
which  has  taken  place,  they  will  be  equally  at  fault. 
Then  there  is  a  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the  Church, 
as  a  body,  which  gives  prominence  to  the  imperfections 
of  its  members.  The  style  of  preaching  is  probably 
nowhere  perfect.  Every  Sabbath  the  j^eople  lose  im- 
measurable benefits  through  our  want  of  skill  in  pre- 
senting the  truth.  Then  the  example  of  one  member  of 
the  Church  afiects  another.  One  brings  to  view  one  phase 
of  a  worldly  spirit,  and  another,  some  other  form  of  it. 


THE   TAKKS    IN    THE    WHEAT   FIELD.  333 

And  there  is  carelessness  in  the  admission  of  members 
to  the  Church  ;  many  shrinking  from  too  rigid  exactions 
for  admittance  ;  the  workl,  bLiming  the  Church  for  hav- 
ing so  many  unworthy  members,  and  then  blaming  her 
for  catechizing  too  strictly  on  admission. 

But,  no  amount  of  care  can  make  one  man  the  in- 
fallible judge  of  another's  heart.  All  that  we  can  do 
in  the  case,  is,  to  require  certain  evidences  of  regenera- 
tion ;  and  then  leave  the  applicant  to  his  own  responsi- 
bility. If  he  entertains  a  slight  estimate  of  the  profes- 
sion of  Christ's  name,  the  Church  can  do  nothing  else 
than  admit  him,  provided  he  comply  with  certain  terms. 
Satan  will  get  false  members  into  any  branch  of  the 
true  Church.  He  can  sow  tares  where  Christ  sows 
wheat,  in  that  field  w^hich  is  "the  world,"  or,  the 
Church  in  this  world. 

The  other  point  presented  by  the  parable,  is, 

n.  The  EFFECT  OF  THE  ChTTRCh's  IMPERFECTION  ON 
THE  FEELINGS  OF  GOOD  MEN  ;  OE,  ThE  DESIKE  AND  EFF0ET8 
OF  GOOD  MEN  TO  PUEIFT  THE  ChUECH. 

The  servants  said  to  the  Lord  in  reference  to  the 
tares  :  "  Wilt  thou  that  we  go  and  gather  them  up  ? " 
Inquire, 

1.  How  far  this  seal  is  pure  f  To  look  with  com- 
placency or  indifference  on  the  evidence  that  Christians 
are  imperfect,  and  that  there  is  hypocrisy  within  the 
Church,  is,  to  betray  a  heart  at  enmity  with  Christ,  who 
supremely  desires  the  sanctification  of  his  people.  In- 
dignation ;  grief;  and  an  earnest  desire  to  remove  scan- 
dals, to  see  the  Church  become  perfect  in  holiness,  to 
see  every  member  shining  in  the  beauty  of  holiness ; 
all  this  is  proper,  and  even  necessary  to  show  our  own 


834  LECTUKE    XXII. 

sincerity.  In  all  tliat  we  sympatliize  with  Christ ;  for^ 
he  has  set  his  heart  upon  the  coming  of  that  great  day 
when  the  tares  shall  be  for  ever  separated  from  the 
wheat ;  when  he  shall  present  to  himself  "  a  glorious 
Church  not  having  spot  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing ; " 
but  shall  be  "  holy  and  without  blemish."  It  is  then  a 
pure  zeal  which  can  rest  in  nothing  short  of  the  abso- 
lute perfection  of  the  Church,  and  of  every  member  in 
it.  But  it  is  an  unholy  zeal  that  mingles  personal  hos- 
tility with  church-censures  ;  hastening  excommunica- 
tion ;  and,  triumphing  as  over  an  enemy,  instead  of 
weeping  over  a  brother  fallen. 

It  has  often  assumed  the  power  of  the  civil  magis- 
trate to  purify  the  Church.  Civil  penalties  for  religious 
errors  and  ecclesiastical  misdemeanors  is  one  of  Sa- 
tan's modes  of  purification.  Death  for  offences  against 
the  Church  is  one  of  the  horrid  demonstrations  which 
history  furnishes,  that  the  enemy  has  sown  tares  among 
the  wheat.  And  this  fiendish  zeal  has  likewise  been 
manifested  in  the  demoniacal  sentences  of  excommuni- 
cation in  which  the  Roman  Church  has  so  freely  in- 
dulged. It  is  dreadful  enough  to  separate  one  from  the 
family  of  the  Lord  on  earth  ;  even  outwardly.  But  to 
claim  a  power  over  the  imseen  world  ;  and  a  commis- 
sion to  separate  the  soul  of  a  delinquent  from  God  and 
heaven  for  ever,  fi-om  holiness  and  blessedness  in  the 
world  to  come  ;  surely  no  human  being  could  ever 
have  pretended  to  that,  until  he  had  reached  those 
depths  of  blasphemy  against  God,  and  cruelty  toward 
men,  which  characterize  so  large  a  part  of  the  history 
of  the  Roman  Church.  It  is  their  use  of  the  term,  ex- 
communication, that  has  thrown  such  an  excessive  hor- 
ribleness  around  it,     I  now  inquire. 


THE   TARES   IN   THE   WHEAT   FIELD.  335 

2.  How  far  is  it  practicahle  to  jpuvify  the  Church  ? 
Not  to  the  extent  of  making  it  as  holy  as  heaven  ;  not 
80  far  as  to  make  the  visible  and  invisible  Church  con- 
tain exactly  the  same  members.  Some  will  be  in  one, 
that  are  not  in  the  other,  after  all  that  man  can  do.  If 
we  should  attempt  to  prevent  it,  we  should  find  our- 
selves at  fault  on  every  side.  We  do  not  know  what 
degree  of  imperfection  is  consistent  with  the  reality  of 
piety.  We  make  up  our  minds  about  our  neighbors' 
characters,  every  day  ;  and  that  may  be  well  enough  ; 
but  when  we  come  to  sit  in  Christ's  seat,  and  undertake 
to  cleanse  his  Church  from  all  its  unconverted  mem- 
bers, we  are  undertaking  a  very  serious  work ;  and  one, 
to  us,  impracticable.  We  do  not  know  what  degree  of 
imitation  is  consistent  with  an  utter  absence  of  the 
reality  of  piety.  We  should  turn  out  some  that  ought 
to  remain  in  ;  and  some  of  the  most  unworthy  we 
should  leave  in  the  membership.  Tliis  is  not  man's 
work ;  it  is  reserved  for  the  angels  and  the  last  day. 

What  then  can  be  done  to  purify  the  Church  ? 
Separation  is  one  method  ;  not  turning  others  out,  but 
going  out.  This  has  sometimes  been  the  only  resort ; 
and  has  conduced  to  the  progress  of  true  religion.  It 
was  probably  so  in  the  case  of  the  Donatists  in  the  early 
ages.  The  Albigenses,  the  Lollards,  and  others  pre- 
ceded the  great  movement  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
This  has  been  followed  by  limited  secessions ;  such  as 
that  of  the  Puritans,  the  Methodists,  the  Orthodox 
churches  of  New  England,  and  the  Free  Church  of 
Scotland.  Besides  these  which  we  approve,  are  many 
that  we  cannot  approve.  Some  are  to  be  condemned 
on  account  of  the  spirit  which  characterized  them. 
Some,  because  they  selected  too  narrow  a  ground  of 


336  LECTURE  xxn. 

separation  ;  and  generally,  because  they  formed  a  com- 
munity spiritual  ly  no  purer  than  that  which  they  had 
left  on  account  of  its  imperfections.  And  of  the  same 
class  are  those  who  refuse  to  commune  with  a  church 
because  it  is  not  perfect.  Christ  and  the  apostles  foimed 
a  separate  Church,  but  with  as  little  separation  as  prin- 
ciple would  admit.  They  did  not  choose  separation  for 
its  own  sake.  The  Wesleys  acted  with  the  same  wis- 
dom and  forbearance  ;  leaving  the  Church  of  their  an- 
cestors and  their  childhood,  only  when  it  was  made  an 
absolute  necessity. 

Another  method  of  purifying  a  Chm-ch,  is,  reform 
within  the  Church.  This  is  the  most  desirable  of  all 
processes,  where  it  can  be  accomplished.  It  is  in  itself 
an  evil,  to  separate  from  a  Church ;  and  should  be 
avoided  when  possible.  The  next  remedy  is — reforma- 
tion, whether  of  doctrine,  manners,  or  heart.  Tliis  is 
the  first  thing  pointed  out  in  the  rules  of  the  Lord's 
house.  He  bids  us,  when  a  brother  otfeuds  ;  go  to  him 
alone,  to  persuade  him  to  repentance  and  reformation. 
If  that  fails,  then  take  some  proper  person  to  give  in- 
creased weight  to  our  persuasions  ;  having  still  his  re- 
covery chiefly  in  view.  But  if  that  fails,  then  disci- 
pline is  our  resort.  If  the  Church  is  regarded  by  any 
merely  as  a  voluntary  association,  they  can  make  no 
objection  to  its  having,  like  every  other  voluntary  asso- 
ciation, fundamental  principles,  and  indispensable  terms 
of  entering  and  remaining  in  its  fellowship.  But  as  the 
household  of  Christ,  it  has  his  authority  for  cutting  oif 
oflending  members.  "  Now  we  command  you,  breth- 
ren, in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  ye  with- 
draw yourselves  from  every  brother  that  walketh  dis- 
orderly.    And  if  any  man  obey  not  our  word,  note  that 


THE    TAKES    IN    THE    "WHEAT   FIELD.  337 

man,  and  have  no  company  witli  him.  Tliem  that  are 
■without,  God  judgeth.  Therefore  put  away  from  among 
yourselves  that  wicked  person."  And  the  words  of  the 
Sa"\dour  are  :  "  K  he  neglect  to  hear  the  Chm'ch,  let 
him  be  to  thee  as  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican.  Yeri- 
ly  I  say  unto  you  ;  whatsoever  ye  shall  bind  on  earth 
shall  be  bound  in  heaven." 

]S^ow  the  end  of  this  discij)linary  process  is  not  to 
secure  a  perfect  Church.  It  has  many  other  and  im- 
portant ends.  Having  laid  down  terms  of  membership, 
it  preserves  those  terms  in  their  integrity.  Whoever 
violates  them,  forfeits  his  rights.  It  aims  at  the  good 
of  the  ofiending  member.  It  is  not  sending  him  to 
perdition  ;  but  cutting  him  ofl'  from  honors  and  privi- 
leges, to  remind  him  of  his  offence,  and  recall  him  to 
duty.  It  inspires  fear,  and  confirms  the  wavering.  It 
removes  a  snare  from  before  the  weak.  It  testifies  to 
the  world  against  specific  forms  of  evil.  It  should  then 
be  distinctly  understood  by  the  Chm'ch  and  the  world, 
that  admission  to  the  Church  and  expulsion  from  the 
Church  do  not  pretend  to  be  decisions  concerning  any 
one's  spiritual  state,  nor  a  claim  that  the  Church  is  kept 
free  from  imperfection.  In  every  case  of  admission  to 
the  Church,  she  expresses  her  satisfaction  with  the  evi- 
dence that  the  person  is  regenerated  ;  but  with  the  dis- 
tinct avowal  that  she  has  frequently  mistaken  the  imi- 
tation for  the  reality.  And  so  too,  in  excision,  we  do 
not  cut  off  every  one  whom  we  believe  to  be  destitute 
of  piety.  We  make  no  pretensions  to  such  a  right,  nor 
to  the  ability  to  discern  spirits.  The  rules  of  our  Church 
require  discii:»line  for  four  classes  of  cases — immoral 
conduct ;  breach  of  express  covenant-vows  ;  neglect  of 
acknowledged  religious  duties  ;  avowed  disbelief  of  the 
15 


338  LECTURE    XXII. 

articles  of  faith  in  our  confession.  Excommunication  ie 
a  solemn  withdrawal  of  a  Church  fi-om  its  connection 
with  an  individual.  It  has  no  violence,  no  wrath,  no 
civil  disabilities,  but  an  immense  social  power.  "  Let 
him  be  to  thee,"  says  the  Saviour,  "  as  a  heathen  man 
and  a  publican."  "Where  it  is  administered  in  the  spirit 
of  the  Lord,  it  has  a  most  salutary  tendency  to  increase 
men's  respect  for  the  Church's  sincerity  ;  to  keep  per- 
sons from  lightly  entering  into  this  solemn  covenant, 
and  from  breaking  their  covenant  with  the  Church, 
when  in  its  membership. 

But  this  is  not  plucking  up  the  tares  ;  for  it  is  not 
aiming  at  the  impossibility  of  making  a  perfect  separa- 
tion between  the  true  and  the  false  in  the  Church.  It 
only  aims  to  guard  against  certain  evils  which  would 
threaten  the  very  existence  of  the  Church,  if  not  checked, 
and  which  bring  great  discredit  on  religion,  especially 
if  unrebuked  by  the  Church. 

The  jDarable  exhibits  another  fact : 

III.  The  eighteous,  pekfect,  and  final  excommuni- 
cation WILL  BE  PEEFOKMED  BY  THE  ANGELS  OF  GoD. 

In  harvest  every  kind  of  grain  is  ripe,  and  discovers 
its  own  specific  qualities.  The  harvest  of  God  is  com- 
ing ;  the  day  when  every  human  being  shall  be  known 
as  he  is.  In  the  arrangements  of  that  day  the  angels  are 
represented  as  having  a  prominent  part.  They  will  be 
employed  in  making  the  great  separation  of  the  true 
members  of  the  Church  from  the  false.  Tlien  all  per- 
sonal imperfection  in  the  childi-en  of  God  will  have 
been  removed  ;  and  in  that  new  Church  will  enter  no 
unbeliever  or  disobedient  spirit.  There  the  ungodly 
will  be,  by  God's  great  executioners,  bound  in  bundles 


THE    TARES    IN    THE    WHEAT   FIELD.  339 

like  tares,  and  cast  out  into  utter  destruction.  Then 
will  the  glory  of  the  Church  of  Christ  be  inconceivably 
great ;  an  empire  of  pure  beings,  without  an  imperfec- 
tion ;  such  as  God  can  perfectly  love,  and  as  can  per- 
fectly love  one  another.  But  fearful  will  be  the  com- 
panionship of  those  here  compared  to  the  tares.  Terri- 
ble will  it  seem  not  to  have  loved  and  obeyed  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Tares  in  God's  wlieat  field  now ;  sown 
by  the  enemy  of  all  good ;  deceiving  man,  but  not 
God  ;  at  length  revealed  to  man  as  they  had  always 
been,  to  God  ;  having  lost  all  the  advantages  of  reli- 
gious privileges,  and  now  taken  out  of  the  Church,  to 
be  cast  into  that  abyss,  whose  horrors  can  be  compared 
only  to  the  most  incompatible  of  earthly  sufi^erings  ;  to 
a  perpetual  burning,  without  consumption  ;  to  a  perpet- 
ual fire  without  a  ray  of  light ;  to  eternal  silence,  with 
endless  weepings  and  wailings  !  " 

This  parahle  addresses  the  enemies  of  the  Church. 
You  have  charged  on  her  imperfection,  as  if  it  were 
your  discovery  of  that  which  she  wished  to  conceal. 
You  point  to  this  member  as  having  no  piety,  and  to 
that  as  not  being  even  moral ;  and  then  pronounce  the 
whole  pretension  of  the  Church  as  therefore  unfounded 
and  insincere.  But  it  is  not  you,  nor  your  class  that 
first  discovered  the  imperfection  of  the  Church.  Here 
you  see  its  founder  proclaiming  it  before  the  !N^ew  Tes- 
tament Church  had  yet  an  existence.  And  he  showed 
that  it  would  continue  so  to  the  end  of  time.  He  com- 
pared the  preachers  to  fishermen  who  cast  their  nets 
into  the  sea,  and  drew  to  land  fishes  of  all  kinds  ;  some 
good,  and  some  bad.  He  said  that  tares  would  be 
sowed  with  the  wheat ;  and  that  the  separation  was 
not  to  take  place  by  human  hands  ;  nor,  so  long  as  the 


340  LECTURE  xxn. 

Church  shall  be  upon  earth.  The  little  Church  thai 
gathered  around  the  Lord  himself  was  a  specimen  of 
the  Church  in  all  ages,  even  the  best.  It  was  not  com- 
posed of  angels,  ^aj,  one  member,  the  master  said, 
had  a  devil.  But  he  did  not  excommunicate  him  ;  be- 
cause he  did  no  overt  act  which  would  justify  it.  And 
while  the  rest  were  sincere,  regenerated  men,  Peter 
had  some  imperfect  elements  of  character  jet ;  and  so 
had  John  and  James,  and  Thomas  ;  and  probably  all, 
if  the  truth  were  known. 

This  parable  is  then  a  protest  against  your  right  of 
discovery  as  to  both  these  facts  :  that  there  are  hypo- 
crites in  the  Church  ;  and  that  the  members  might  be 
much  improved.  If  you  can  show  any  defect  in  the 
ground  of  discipline  she  has  laid  down,  or  any  palpable 
remissness  in  the  application  of  them,  then  you  may 
censure.  Otherwise,  your  censure  is  unjust  and  un- 
generous. 

This  jparable  instructs  the  historian  of  the  Churchy 
and  those  who  read  Church  history.  Wliat  would  be 
the  proper  principles  of  writing  the  history  of  the  medi- 
cal art  ?  Would  it  be,  to  make  it  chiefly  a  history  of 
diseases  ?  Surely  not.  It  is  just  the  opposite.  Enough 
must  be  presented  of  the  diseases,  to  show  what  the 
healing  art  has  performed,  and  what  it  has  failed  to 
perform.  But  the  healing  process  is  the  peculiar  es- 
sential feature  of  the  history  of  medical  practice.  TTie 
Church  on  earth  is  not  the  Church  in  heaven.  It  is 
the  gathering  place  of  a  particular  class  of  invalids 
out  of  the  diseased  race ;  that  is,  such  as  have  become 
willing  to  take  the  remedies,  and  have  begun  to  feel 
their  efficacy.  Now  they  have  brought  much  disease 
in  with  them.     And  many  have  come  in,  who  have  not 


THE   TARES    IN    THE   WHEAT   FIELD.  341 

begun  to  be  healed.  And  some  come  in  to  cheat  them- 
selves, taking  poison  instead  of  remedies.  But  he  that 
really  writes  the  history  of  the  Church,  or  he  that  pro- 
perly reads  it,  will  look  mainly  to  the  realities  of  spirit- 
ual recovery  in  some,  rather  than  the  outbreaking  of 
fresh  symptoms  of  disease  in  many.  What  we  call 
Church-history  is  valuable  to  a  certain  extent.  But  the 
great,  real  history  is  not  of  the  tares  ;  it  is  of  the  wheat. 
The  real  progress  of  souls  in  holiness,  the  growth  of  the 
hidden  life,  that  constitutes  the  true  history  of  the 
Church.  The  record  of  her  conflicts,  and  disputes,  and 
persecutions,  her  relations  to  the  powers  of  the  earth, 
are  all  very  valuable.  But  they  are  like  the  history  of 
a  man's  clothes,  and  of  his  body.  The  real  history  of 
the  man  is  the  record  of  his  soul.  Look  then  in  Church 
history  for  the  wheat ;  and  not  for  the  tares.  The 
wickedest  men  in  the  Church  often  make  the  greatest 
figure  in  what  is  called  her  History,  because  the  writer 
was  looking  for  the  worldly  development,  and  not  for 
the  glorious  reality  which  gives  value  to  all  else  in 
the  Church ;  the  transformation  of  men  into  God's 
likeness. 

This  parahle  must  modify  our  notions  of  the  millen- 
nium.  The  common  opinion  is,  that  there  will  be  a 
great  triumph  of  the  Gospel,  almost  annihilating  Sa- 
tan's kingdom ;  that  then  he  will  regain  his  power,  and 
work  with  terrible  energy,  until  the  consummation  of 
all  things,  and  the  eternal  separation  of  the  human  fam- 
ily in  heaven  and  hell.  But  here  we  are  taught  that 
the  tares  will  continue  to  grow  to  the  end.  This  indeed 
would  be  consistent  with  a  great  diminution  in  the  ac- 
tivity of  Satan  for  a  certain  period ;  and  it  might  not 
have  been  necessary  to  introduce  that  fact  in  this  para- 


342  LECTHEE  xxn. 

able.  And  yet  it  appears  to  giv^e  an  impression  some- 
wliat  different  from  our  commonly  received  notions. 
Satan  is  to  be  chained  a  thousand  years.  Chained  with 
what  ?  Is  it  not  with  telegraphic  wires  ;  railroad  bars ; 
and  Bible  society  presses  ?  But  the  diminution  of  his 
power  is  perhaps  only  relative.  The  Church  will  never 
in  this  world  probably  be  able  to  remit  her  vigilance 
against  him,  as  the  enemy  sowing  tares.     And  yet 

She  should  he  filled  with  hope.  The  wheat  and  tares 
are  not  to  grow  together  for  ever ;  nor  is  the  enemy  to 
sow  for  ever.  Here  he  has  access  to  the  Church,  and 
mars  every  good  work.  There  he  will  cease  to  annoy 
and  to  corrupt.  Here  the  righteous  are  obscured  to  men 
and  to  one  another  by  their  own  imperfections  ;  there 
they  will  shine  forth  as  the  light.  It  will  then  be  seen 
that  in  every  truly  regenerated  heart  a  light  was  really 
enkindled,  which  here  struggled  as  a  spark  on  the  waves 
of  the  sea.  There  it  will  break  into  the  effulgence  of 
seven  suns.     In  this  parable, 

The  agency  of  Satan  is  revealed  to  iis  as  a  motive  to 
vigilance  and  act/ion.  "Be  sober,"  is  one  injunction; 
"  resist  the  devil,"  is  another.  "  We  are  not  ignorant  of 
his  devices,"  said  a  great  leader.  Now  here  we  learn 
that  he  thrusts  unconverted  persons  into  the  Church  ; 
thrusts  in  false  teachers  into  her  pulpits,  as  well  as  pro- 
motes ungodliness  in  real  Christians.  We  must  then 
counteract  him  in  every  honorable  way ;  though  not 
pretend  nor  hope  to  make  a  perfect  Church. 


LECTUKE   XXm. 


THE  VINEYAKD  ;  OE,  THE  VISIBLE  CHUECH  TEANSFEREED  TO  THE 

GENTILES. 

Matt.  xxi.  33-46.  "  Hear  another  parable :  There  was  a  certain 
householder,  which  planted  a  vineyard,  and  hedged  it  round  about,  and 
digged  a  winepress  in  it,  and  built  a  tower,  and  let  it  out  to  husbandmen, 
and  went  into  a  far  country :  And  when  the  time  of  the  fruit  drew  near. 
he  sent  his  servants  to  the  husbandmen,  that  they  might  receive  the  fruits 
of  it.  And  the  husbandmen  took  his  servants,  and  beat  one,  and  killed 
another,  and  stoned  another.  Again,  he  sent  other  servants  more  than  the 
fii'st :  and  they  did  unto  them  likewise.  But  last  of  all  he  sent  unto  them 
his  son,  saying.  They  wlU  reverence  my  son.  But  when  the  husbandmen 
saw  the  son,  they  said  among  themselves.  This  is  the  heir;  come,  let  us 
kill  him,  and  let  us  seize  on  his  inheritance.  And  they  caiight  him,  and 
cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard,  and  slew  him.  When  the  lord  therefore  of 
the  vineyard  cometh,  what  wUl  he  do  unto  those  husbandmen  ?  They 
say  imto  him,  He  wiU  miserably  destroy  those  wicked  men,  and  will  let 
out  his  vineyard  unto  other  husbandmen,  which  shall  render  him  the  fruits 
in  their  seasons.  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Did  ye  never  read  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, The  stone  which  the  bnUders  rejected,  the  same  is  become  the  head 
of  the  corner  :  this  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes  ? 
Therefore  say  I  unto  you,  The  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  taken  from  you, 
and  given  to  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof.  And  whosoever 
shall  fall  on  this  stone  shall  be  broken  :  but  on  whomsoever  it  shall  fall,  it 
wUl  grind  him  to  powder.  And  when  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  had 
heard  his  parables,  they  perceived  that  he  spake  of  them.  But  when  they 
sought  to  lay  hands  on  him,  they  feared  the  multitude,  because  they  took 
him  for  a  prophet." 


344  LECTURE    XXIII. 

This  describes  a  breach  of  trust,  sucb  as  finds  no. 
parallel  in  the  history  of  mankind.  The  kingdom  of 
God  was  committed  to  the  Jewish  people.  They  be- 
trayed the  sacred  trust,  and  we  are  here  called  to  wit- 
ness their  crime  and  its  punishment.  The  rulers  of  the 
Church  appropriate  to  their  use  all  the  power  and 
glory  intrusted  to  them  ;  and,  for  this,  the  Church  is 
transferred  to  the  Gentiles.  "  Hear  another  parable," 
said  the  lord  of  the  vineyard,  who  was  liimself  the 
preacher  ; — let  me  open  to  you  your  own  history  ;  in 
the  past,  as  you  have  never  read  it ;  and  in  the  future, 
as  you  have  never  anticipated  it.  "  There  was  a  certain 
householder,  which  planted  a  vineyard." 

The  point  here  exhibited  is,  that, 

I.  The  Church  is  God's  peculiae  treasure. 

Let  it  be  remarked,  that  the  visible  Church  must 
not  only  be  regarded  as  distinct  from  the  invisible, — but 
also  the  Church  at  any  one  period,  and  in  any  external 
form,  from  the  Church  visible  considered  as  one  and 
the  same  in  every  age  and  country.  The  first  distinc- 
tion we  have  had  very  fully  before  us  in  the  parable 
of  the  wheat  and  tares.  Of  the  other  we  have  occasion 
to  avail  ourselves  at  present.  It  is  beautifully  exhibit- 
ed by  Paul,  under  the  image  of  an  olive  tree  ;  where 
he,  in  fact,  presents  the  very  doctrine  of  this  parable. 
Tlie  olive  tree  represented  that  great  organization  in 
the  world,  which  has  sprung  out  of  the  supernatural 
revelations  of  God,  and  has  founded  itself  more  or  less 
entirely  on  them.  A  multitude  of  its  members  are  not 
made  any  better  by  being  in  it,  and  will  never  belong 
to  the  Church  invisible,  because  they  never  joined  it 
in  spirit,  but  only  formally  and  outwardly.    And  many 


TlIK   VmEYARD.  345 

not  in  it  will  be  saved  ;  yet  it  includes  the  true  Clmrcli, 
and  the  heaven-descended  religion.  Onr  Lord  de- 
clared, "  salvation  is  of  the  Jews  ; "  that  is,  theirs  is 
yet  the  true  Church,  though  it  will  not  long  remain 
with  them.  And  Paul  says  :  they  are  "  the  natural 
branches."  Theirs  was  a  birth-relation  to  the  Church. 
But  they  were  cut  oif  by  reason  of  unbelief ;  and  Gen- 
tiles, branches  of  the  wild  ohve,  were  grafted  in.  The 
visible  Church  is  then  the  organized  body,  which  is 
founded  upon  supernatural  revelation,  and  contains  the 
true  religion  and  the  real  Church  or  saints,  or  elect  of 
God. 

This  Church  is  very  precious  in  God's  sight.  It  is 
the  vase  which  holds  his  jewels ;  the  fold  which  en- 
closes his  flock.  It  is  his  own  institution  ;  and  so  dear 
to  him,  that  he  loves  for  its  sake  that  wicked  nation,  so 
long  as  they  retain  the  sacred  deposit.  The  image  of 
a  vine  and  a  vineyard  to  exhibit  the  Church  is  very 
frequently  employed  in  the  Scriptures.  "  Tliou  hast 
brought  a  vine  out  of  Egypt ;  thou  hast  cast  out  the 
heathen,  and  planted  it.  Thou  preparedst  room  before 
it,  and  didst  cause  it  to  take  deep  root ;  and  it  filled 
the  land."  Isaiah  says  :  "  IS'ow  will  I  sing  to  my  well- 
beloved  a  song.  My  well-beloved  hath  a  vineyard  in 
a  very  fruitful  hill ;  and  he  fenced  it,  and  gathered  out 
the  stones  thereof,  and  planted  it  with  the  choicest 
vine."  And  after  describing  it  minutely,  he  adds  : 
"  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  the  house  of 
Israel."  The  nation  was  at  that  time  identified  with  the 
Church.  A  vineyard  does  not  come  by  chance.  It  is 
an  object  of  thought  and  desire  before  it  comes  to 
exist.  And  because  he  desires  to  have  its  fruit,  a  man 
plants  it.  'No  possession  among  the  Jews  was  more 
15* 


346  LECTUBE  xxra. 

highly  prized.  So  God  desired  to  have  this  organi« 
zation,  this  institution  among  men.  And  desiring  it, 
he  formed  it.  "  There  was  a  certain  householder  which 
planted  a  vineyard."  And  he  "  let  it  out  to  husband- 
men."    This  brings  the  next  point  before  us. 

II.  The  Jewish  people  were  appointed  its  guae- 

DIANS. 

With  this  history  we  are  all  familiar.  Abram 
was  a  Syrian,  born  in  an  idolatrous  nation  and  family  ; 
but  called  of  Jehovah  to  receive  a  light  which  should 
guide  him  to  the  knowledge  and  worship  of  God,  and 
to  enter  into  a  covenant  which  should  insure  the 
Church  to  abide  with  his  descendants,  until  the  Son 
of  God  should  himself  appear,  and  the  way  be  pre- 
pared for  its  diffusion  among  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  The  Church  received,  however,  no  organic 
form,  until  the  family  of  Abraham  in  the  line  of  Isaac 
were  vastly  multiplied,  and  ready  to  leave  their  estate 
of  subjection  and  go  up  to  possess  the  promised  land. 
Moses  was  then  called ;  and  more  richly  endowed  than 
any  other  mere  man  ever  was,  to  form  the  Church  and 
the  nation,  and  lead  them  to  their  territory.  At  Mt. 
Sinai  the  ordinances  of  public  worship  and  a  ritual 
were  committed  to  that  people  through  the  hands  of 
Moses.  And  he  began  to  compose  a  written  code  of 
laws,  ceremonial,  moral  and  civil ;  a  history  and  a 
liturgy,  which  were  the  basis  of  the  Scriptures.  Tlie 
Jews  entered  Canaan  ;  and  then  the  work  of  2:)lanting, 
hedging,  digging  a  wine-vat,  and  building  a  tower,  were 
all  perfected.  They  were  really  "  a  vineyard  enclosed." 
Their  institutions  were  a  moral  hedge.  Tliey  were  not 
encouraged  to  be  a  military,  nor  a  commercial  people. 


THE   VINEYAED.  34( 

They  were  forbidden  to  intermany  with  other  nations. 
They  were  taught  to  abhor  every  system  of  idolatry. 
Their  religion  was  peculiar  ;  their  moral  law  was  alto- 
gether superior  to  the  moral  principles  recognized  by 
any  other  people.  And  then  their  geographical  posi- 
tion isolated  them.  The  desert  of  Paran  bounded  their 
southern  states  ;  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  the  west ;  the 
rugged  mountains  of  Lebanon,  the  north  ;  and  their 
eastern  frontier  was  a  water  boundary,  excepting  a  few 
tribes  that  preferred  to  live  beyond  the  Jordan.  "  I, 
saith  the  Lord,  will  be  a  wall  of  fire  round  about." 
"■  As  the  mountains  are  round  about  Jerusalem,  so  the 
Lord  is  round  about  his  people."  Thus  was  the  vine- 
yard hedged  in.  And  every  facility  was  furnished  for 
their  becoming  a  nation  of  saints,  a  godly  people,  pre- 
serving the  true  religion  in  its  purity,  and  honoring 
God  in  a  godless  world.  And  this  vineyard,  it  is  said, 
in  conformity  with  eastern  customs,  was  let  or  farmed 
out  to  husbandmen.  The  Church  was  committed  to 
the  people  of  Israel.  The  owner  then  removed  to  a 
foreign  land.  And  at  the  time  of  vintage  he  sent 
agents  to  get  the  returns, — as  the  custom  was  to  farm 
on  shares.  But  instead  of  welcoming  their  Lord's  com- 
missioners, they  refused  to  make  returns  ;  insulted  and 
injured,  and  even  murdered  them,  in  various  forms. 
The  owner  hearing  of  this,  sent  a  more  respectable 
body  of  men  to  claim  his  rent.  They  were  treated  in 
the  same  manner.  Still  lenient,  and  disposed  to  recall 
them  to  their  duty,  he  determined  to  send  his  well-be- 
loved son,  saying  to  himself — "  Surely  they  will  respect 
him,  and  treat  him  differently."  But  when  they  saw 
him  approach,  they  said,  "  IS'ow  let  us  get  him  out  of 
the  way,  and  we  shall  hear  no  more  of  these  claims ; 


3i8  LECTUEE   XXIIT. 

hut  remain  in  undisturbed  possession,  and  enjoy  this 
magnificent  farm  in  our  own  way."  Tliis  is  a  grapliic 
outline  of  the  whole  history  of  that  nation,  from  the 
time  of  Joshua  to  David  ;  from  Kehoboam  to  the  cap- 
tivity ;  and  from  the  restoration  to  the  destruction  of 
their  capital,  and  the  dismemberment  of  their  nation. 

m.   The  Jewish  na-jion  was  uNTAnKFUL  to  its 

TKUST. 

Tliis  was  manifested  variously. 

1.  They  rejected  the  moral  government  of  Jehovah. 
Tlie  Church  was  incorporated  in  their  nation,  that  they 
might  become  personally  religious.  The  clear  light  of 
a  revelation  of  Grod's  being  and  character  shone  on 
them.  They  were  taught  in  what  holiness  consists. 
But  as  a  people,  they  seldom  attained  to  a  very  high 
degree  of  moral  excellence.  Tliey  would  not  love 
God  with  all  their  hearts,  nor  obey  him.     Then, 

2.  They  rejected  his  political  control  as  the  head  of 
their  theocracy.  You  remember  that  they  continually 
inclined  to  adopt  the  idolatry  of  their  neighbors.  But, 
setting  up  the  shrine  or  image  of  Baal  or  Ashtaroth, 
was  a  civil  as  well  as  a  moral  crime ;  it  was  treason 
against  Jehovah.  They  rejected  his  ambassadors  too, 
as  is  particularly  stated  in  the  parable.  The  Jewish 
prophets  were  the  most  wonderful  race  of  men  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  Look,  for  example,  at  Elijah,  a 
star  of  heaven  shining  on  a  dark  night  of  time,  and  of 
the  Church.  He  came  to  assert  Jehovah's  right  to  be 
Israel's  God.  But  the  priests  of  Baal,  through  the  in- 
stigation of  Jezebel,  well  nigh  secured  his  destruction. 
Jeremiah,  too,  suifered  the  severest  persecution  at  the 
hands  of  his  countrymen.     Isaiah  was  sawed  asunder. 


THE   VINEYARD.  349 

Thus  were  tliey  treated,  down  to  John  the  Baptist. 
"They  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asnnder,  they 
w^andered  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins,  and  hid  in 
the  caves  of  the  earth  ;  men,  of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy,"  But  they  were  thus  hated,  and  thus 
treated,  because  they  asserted  God's  claims  to  men's 
affections  and  obedience.  This  treatment  of  the  am- 
bassadors was  rebellion  against  their  king ;  which, 
in  fact,  they  had  manifested  in  exchanging  the  simpler 
form  of  government  for  the  regal.  But  the  climax 
was  in  the  rejection  of  their  king  in  person.  God  had 
resorted  to  repi-oofs,  to  remonstrance,  and  to  very  sore 
chastisements ;  but  all  was  in  vain.  There  now  re- 
mained one  more  experiment,  one  more  effort  of  mercy 
before  the  dreadful  sentence  should  pass  that  would 
visit  on  their  guilty  heads  the  long  catalogue  of  their 
national  crimes.  The  Son  of  God  came  to  assert  liis 
Father's  claims.  As  soon  as  they  discovered  the  real 
nature  of  his  mission,  they  conceived  the  most  malig- 
nant hatred  for  him.  They  envied  his  lofty  character 
and  sublime  elevation  above  themselves.  They  dreaded 
his  success,  which  would  despoil  them  of  all  that  grati- 
fied their  selfish  desires.  They  smarted  under  his  holy 
rebukes.  They  hated  the  light  of  his  doctrine,  enforced 
by  his  life.  And  they  cried  out,  "  Away  with  him ; 
crucify  him,  ci'ucify  him.  His  blood  be  on  us,  and  on 
our  children  !  "  They  took  him  out  of  the  city,  and  so 
"  cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard." 

When  Christ  had  reached  this  point  of  his  story,  lie 
appealed  to  his  very  enemies — what  shall  the  lord  of 
the  vineyard  "  do  to  these  husbandmen  ?  "  They  re- 
plied justly  :  "  He  will  wretchedly  destroy  those  wicked 
men,  and  let  out  his  vineyard  to  other  husbandmen, 


350  LECTUKE    XXIII. 

whiicli  shall  render  liim  the  fruits  in  their  seasons/' 
And  so  it  was. 

lY.  The  sacked  trust  was  trajstsfekred  to  other 

PEOPLES  AJSTD  NATIONS. 

That  this  would  ever  occur,  the  Jews  could  not  be- 
lieve. So  strongly  had  the  idea  of  their  being  the  favor- 
ites of  heaven  become  fixed  in  their  minds  ;  so  firmly 
were  they  persuaded  that  they  were  the  Church  of  God, 
and  always  should  be  ;  so  fully  satisfied  were  they  that 
they  had  a  native  purity,  and  the  Gentiles  a  native 
corruption,  which  should  ever  keep  secure  the  children 
of  Abraham  in  the  possession  of  their  ecclesiastical 
elevation,  that  they  dared  to  defy  God  himself  to  dis- 
possess them.  Now,  for  two  thousand  years  the  cove- 
nant with  Abraham  had  existed  ;  and  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years  they  had  insulted  God  as  a  moral  gov- 
ernor, as  a  God  of  holiness,  on  the  strength  of  his 
promise  to  their  great  ancestor.  Nothing  but  such  a 
long  life  of  national  crime  could  have  prepared  them 
for  the  last  crowning  act. 

When  that  audience  had  virtually  pronounced  their 
nation's  doom,  then  Christ  added,  with  a  fearful  sub- 
limity of  poetic  utterance  : 

"  Did  ye  never  read  in  the  Scriptures  ; 
The  stone  which  the  builders  rejected, 
The  same  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner ; 
This  is  the  work  of  the  Lord, 
And  wonderful  in  our  eyes  ? 

Therefore  I  say  unto  you  ; 
The  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  taken  from  you. 
And  given  to  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof. 
And  whosoever  shall  fall  against  this  stone,  shall  be  bruised  ^ 
And  on  whomsoever  it  shall  fall,  it  will  grind  him  to  pieces," 


THE   VINETAKD.  351 

Tliese  facts  bring  us  to  a  specific  consideration  of 
the  last  point  of  tlie  parable. 

Y.  They  weke  fearfully  punished  as  a  nation. 

The  Jewish  method  of  stoning  was  by  dashing  the 
criminal  against  a  rock  ;  and  if  that  did  not  kill  him, 
he  was  taken  to  an  elevated  scaffold  and  pushed  down, 
and  a  huge  stone  was  thrown  upon  him.  So  here  it  is 
said,  the  stone  which  is  head  of  the  corner  of  the 
kingdom  of  God,  or  the  Church,  will  be  a  stone  for 
this  people  to  be  dashed  against ;  and  then  to  complete 
their  destruction,  he  will  fall  upon  them  and  crush  tliem 
as  a  Church,  as  a  nation.  In  the  siege  of  Jerusalem, 
Josephus  says,  more  than  one  million  Jews  perished, 
and  in  horrible  forms  of  death.  His  blood  was  upon 
them  and  their  children.  Fearfully  did  the  righteous- 
ness of  Jehovah  visit  upon  that  generation  "  all  the 
blood  that  was  shed,  from  the  blood  of  righteous 
Abel,"  to  the  blood  of  Jesus. 

We  are  here  led  to  admire  the  sublime  features  of 
the  scheme  of  Providence !  Ezekiel  had  some  such 
conception  of  it  as  brought  to  his  imagination  under  the 
symbol  of  immense  wheels,  like  the  rings  of  Saturn  or 
our  zodiacal  belt,  arching  over  the  breadth  of  the 
heavens  ;  a  wheel  within  a  wheel,  full  of  eyes  ;  instinct 
with  life  ;  going  straightforward  on  the  path  in  which 
the  spirit  led  them.  Then  the  vision  was  changed  to  won- 
derful creatures  combining  the  highest  qualities  of  the 
animal  aud  human  race.  And  above  them  all  was  a 
throne  glorious  to  behold  ;  for  Providence  is  but  the 
external  part  of  the  administration  of  a  perfect  moral 
government 


352  LECTUEE  xxin. 

Tlie  wonder  of  Providence  is,  that  it  should  leave 
60  open  the  sphere  of  free  agency  to  numberless  intelli- 
gent beings,  and  yet  carry  them  and  their  actions  along, 
like  the  currents  of  the  sea,  to  its  own  issues ;  yea,  it 
even  makes  sin  the  instrument  of  holiness,  and  rebel- 
lion to  promote  the  stability  of  his  government ! 

The  election  of  God,  against  which  man  so  much 
rails,  is  the  supreme  exercise  of  divine  benevolence 
and  wisdom.  To  see  how  this  is  we  must  often  wait  to 
the  end,  Now  in  the  case  of  the  Jews  we  have  seen 
the  end.  "Jacob  have  I  loved,  and  Esau  have  I 
hated ; "  was  the  language  of  the  Sovereign  ruler  of 
men.  But  why  was  Jacob  thus  selected ;  simply  to 
pet  and  caress  one  race  of  men  ?  By  no  means  :  God 
was  seeking  an  ark  for  his  JSToah  ;  a  depository  for  his 
Church  ;  an  envelope  to  that  seed  of  life  which  should 
bless  the  nations  in  the  fulness  of  time.  He  appeared 
indeed,  often,  to  be  dealing  with  them  in  the  most  partial 
manner  of  parental  fondness  ;  "  giving  men  for  them, 
Egypt  and  Ethiopia  for  their  ransom."  But  he  was 
ever  looking  to  the  largest  and  most  beneficent  results 
to  the  human  family.  Idolatry  had  so  penetrated  the 
world  as  to  make  it  impossible  to  stay  it,  but  by  throw- 
ing all  the  guards  of  national  feeling  around  the  doc 
trines  and  institutions  of  the  Divine  unity,  and  a  pure 
religion.  Tlie  men  of  fifty  generations  will  go  on  and 
perish  in  the  abominations  of  heathenism ;  but  the 
current  can  ultimately  be  turned,  and  a  bright  era 
dawn  on  mankind,  provided  the  Church  can  get  a 
lodgment  on  earth  ;  and  slowly  develope  its  own  prin- 
ciples, and  come  to  a  confirmed  maturity,  before  it  is 
committed  t©  a  rude  and  open  conflict  with  the  powers 
of  darkness. 


THE    VINT5TAED.  353 

Then  the  Jewish  liistory  illustrates  many  principles 
of  great  importance.  God  has  by  it  manifested  his 
condescension  and  goodness.  His  paternal  feelings 
could  find  no  exercise  toward  the  nations  of  the  earth  ; 
nor  even  toward  the  Jews,  considered  in  themselves. 
Therefore  to  show  the  strength  and  tenderness  of  those 
feelings  in  himself,  he  selected  a  people  whom  he  could 
perpetually  love,  on  two  grounds  :  their  connection 
with  Abraham,  his  friend,  and  their  connection  with 
his  Church.  And  oh  !  what  treatment  did  they  receive 
on  these  grounds ;  ever  heightened  in  its  manifesta- 
tion of  tenderness  and  strength  by  their  personal  wick- 
edness and  contempt  of  him  !  "  For  my  name's  sake 
do  I  this,"  he  would  often  say.  That  is,  I  would  have 
men  understand  that  I  am  kind  ;  that  I  have  a  father's 
heart.  If  I  manifest  it  in  my  treatment  of  men  indis- 
criminately, they  will  take  advantage  of  it,  and  imagine 
that  I  am  indifferent  to  their  sins.  But  I  do  it  to  this 
chosen  generation,  just  to  let  men  see  what  is  in  my 
heart.  I  am  not  partial.  My  particular  election  has 
reference  to  an  ultimate  general  benefit.  And  what 
could  so  exhibit  his  patience  and  forbearance  as  the 
long  periods  of  their  utter  declension!  Year  after 
year  these  husbandmen  occupied  his  vineyard,  and  no 
returns  of  its  products  were  made  to  him.  "Ye  have 
robbed  me,  even  this  whole  nation,"  was  his  charge. 
Messenger  after  messenger  was  sent.  But  whether  it 
was  Amos  the  herdsman,  Jeremiah  the  elegiac  poet,  or 
Isaiah  the  seraphic ;  they  seized  his  servants,  stoning 
one,  beating  another,  and  killing  another.  And  then, 
after  all  that,  he  sent  his  Son,  as  it  is  said  in  Mark  : 
"  Having  yet  therefore  one  Son,  his  well-beloved,  he 
sent  him  also."    This  is  one  of  the  sins  which  Nehe- 


354  LECTTKE  xxin. 

miah  so  humbly  confesses  :  "  They  were  disobedient, 
and  rebelled  against  thee  ;  and  cast  thy  law  behind 
their  backs,  and  slew  thy  prophets,  which  testified 
ao-ainst  them."  And  Jehovah  thus  remonstrates  with 
them  by  Jeremiah  :  "  I  sent  unto  you  all  my  servants 
the  prophets,  rising  early,  and  sending  them,  and  say- 
ing, '  Oh,  do  not  this  abominable  thing.'  But  they 
hearkened  not."  Tlius  this  history  illustrates  the  de- 
pravity of  man,  his  vile  ingratitude  to  God,  and  his 
contempt  of  the  lofty  ends  which  God  proposes  to  him. 
And,  finally,  it  gave  occasion  to  present  the  world  an 
overwhelming  exhibition  and  vindication  of  the  justice 
of  God.  The  Deluge  was  a  fearful  revelation  of  it. 
So  was  the  destruction  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  But 
the  casting  down  of  Israel,  the  rejection  of  Abraham's 
childi-en,  was  the  crowning  act.  How  can  any  man 
doubt  that  their  destruction  was  an  act  of  God's  govern- 
ment, a  positive,  awful  punishment,  when  Christ  threat- 
ened them  again  and  again  with  this  as  a  punishment ; 
not  as  a  progressive  advancement  of  that  people,  not 
as  a  part  of  the  Divine  goodness,  but  as  Paul  denomi- 
nates it,  "  the  severity  of  God  !  "  These  are  some  of 
the  great  ends  secured  by  a  wonder-working  Provi- 
dence in  the  history  of  that  peculiar  people. 

We  are  taught  here  again  that  there  is  a  great  respon- 
stbility  on  the  nations^  comm/iinities  and  individuals, 
to  which  God  commits  his  Church.  Before  Jerusalem 
had  fallen,  and  the  temple  perished,  the  Church  had 
begun  to  find  a  place  among  the  Gentiles.  Even  Sa- 
maria, and  Rome,  and  the  luxurious  Corinth  had  re- 
ceived the  sacred  trust.  And  quickly  all  Europe,  Asia, 
eastern  and  northern  Africa  had  received  it.     And  the 


THE   VINEYAKD.  355 

most  instructive  pages  of  human  history  there  begin. 
How  fared  the  Church  of  God  in  these  nations,  is  the 
question ;  and  the  answer  teaches  us  many  great  les- 
sons. The  presence  of  the  Church  has  been  the  greatest 
blessing  any  nation  has  enjoyed;  and  the  continuance 
of  the  Church,  or  its  removal  has,  in  some  cases,  de- 
pended on  the  fidelity  with  which  the  trust  has  been 
kept ;  and  the  corruption  of  the  Church  has  ever  been 
the  curse  of  a  nation.  This  opens  too  large  a  section 
of  history  to  follow  now.  But  look  for  an  illustration 
of  one  of  these  points,  at  Asia  Minor.  They  were  un- 
faithful as  a  people  ;  so  were  they  in  India,  in  Syria ; 
and  what  have  been  the  consequences  ?  The  candle- 
stick has  been  removed  ;  the  kingdom  has  been  trans- 
ferred ;  the  vineyard  is  given  to  other  husbandmen. 
And  we,  from  this  wilderness,  are  now  sending  the 
light  back  to  the  eastern  churches  ;  the  Bible  to  Corinth 
and  Thessalouica,  to  Patmos  and  Antioch  and  Jeru- 
salem, where  large  portions  of  it  were  written  under 
the  guidance  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Then  again  look  at  the  influence  of  the  Church  in 
creating  the  civilization  of  mediasval  Europe,  when  the 
northern  barbarians  had  swept  away  the  old  Roman 
civilization  and  the  institutions  it  had  formed.  Look 
then  again  at  the  nations  which  exterminated  the  re- 
vivers of  pure  religion  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
contrast  them  with  those  which  welcomed  them ;  and 
mark  the  difference  that  characterizes  their  subsequent 
history. 

It  is  expected  of  a  people  having  the  Church  of  God 
among  them,  that  they  shall  regard  it  with  favor ;  re- 
spect its  rights,  and  leave  it  an  open  field  for  its  legiti- 
mate action.     That  is  all  that  truly  devolves  on  legisla- 


356  LECTUKE   xxiir. 

tors  and  rulers.  Then,  on  the  individuals  composing  a 
nation,  God  lays  personal  responsibilities.  They  are  to 
receive  his  n^essages,  and  return  him  the  fruits  of  all 
that  his  grace  has  done  for  them.  In  a  word,  God  ex- 
pects us  to  become  Christians  under  Christian  institu- 
tions. And  whoever  refuses  this  claim,  so  far  provokes 
God  to  remove  his  privileges.  I  know  we  of  this  coun- 
try feel  quite  secure  against  Providence  now.  We  have 
got  so  far  out  of  the  region  of  supernatural  causes  ;  we 
have  got  such  regularity  in  om*  lines  of  steamboats,  and 
railroads,  and  found  so  much  gold,  and  become  so 
mighty,  that  God  himself  cannot  terrify  us  now.  "  Be 
not  high-minded,  but  fear,"  says  Paul  to  the  Gentiles 
who  have  received  the  vineyard.  The  caution  pertains 
to  nations.  For,  the  Saviour  says,  the  vineyard  shall 
be  "  given  to  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof." 
And  if  any  nation  possessing  it,  is  not  meeting  that  de- 
scription, it  may  be  that  God  can  find  a  way  to  make 
another  transfer  of  it.  It  pertains  to  all  denominations 
of  Christians  equally.  Tlie  Peformed  churches  had  a 
great  trust.  But  those  in  Germany  and  France  have 
lost  their  high  position.  The  Church  of  England  had  a 
great  trust ;  but  she  lost  it,  just  so  far  as  she  was  un- 
faithful. The  Methodist  Cliurch  received  the  kingdom 
gloriously.  But  she  has  not  kept  her  high  ground. 
The  Puritans  have  lost  a  part  of  their  power.  Let  na- 
tions, churches,  and  individuals  understand  that  the 
vineyard  they  occupy  belongs  to  another,  a  Lord  who 
has  gone  on  a  journey  ;  but  is  continually  sending  com- 
missioners to  receive  his  dues.  And  if  we  are  unfaith- 
ful, he  himself  will  come,  and  take  the  matter  in  hand. 

But  tlie  parable  has  yet  a  closer  personal  application. 


THE   VINEYARD.  357 

We  m'e  the  husbcmdmen.  Our  birth  is  in  a  Chris- 
tiar  land,  a  nation  possessing  that  glorious  institution, 
tne  Christian  Church,  with  its  Sabbaths,  sanctuaries, 
Bibles,  worship,  instructions  and  Christian  fellowship. 
JS^ow,  the  nation  may  be  so  far  faithful  to  its  trust,  that 
God  shall  not  remove  these  privileges  from  it.  But  we, 
personally,  may  starve  at  a  full  table ;  we  may  become 
blind,  and  grope  at  noon-day.  God  deals  with  com- 
munities as  such  ;  with  individuals  as  individuals.  Are 
we  returning  to  the  owner  of  the  vineyard  our  share  of 
the  fruits  ?  Those  fruits  have  the  remarkable  quality 
of  enriching  you,  by  being  returned  to  their  owner.  If 
you  give  God  the  first  fruits  of  your  heart ;  love,  trust, 
gratitude ;  warm,  earnest,  supreme,  you  are  richer  than 
if  you  had  the  treasures  of  all  kingdoms.  If  you  give 
God  the  best  hours  of  the  day,  you  are  more  profited 
than  if  you  had  a  century  exchanged  for  each  of  those 
hours,  to  work  for  yourself,  in  any  way.  K  you  lay 
down  every  selfish  interest  and  pursuit,  and  make  the 
glory  of  God  the  great  end  of  your  being,  you  get  a 
higher  title  of  nobility  than  if  you  toiled  through  a  long 
life  like  Nelson  or  Wellington,  to  get  a  few  fading  earth- 
ly honors. 

My  hearer,  you  are  in  the  Lord's  vineyard.  You 
must  hear  his  messengers.  In  his  name  they  say — "  My 
son,  give  me  thy  heart " — thy  time — thy  talents.  You 
must  cease  living  for  yourself,  and  live  for  Christ. 
God  says  :  "  They  will  reverence  my  Son."  How  rea- 
sonable the  expectation.  He  expects  it  of  you.  To- 
day, will  you  then  hear  the  Son  of  God !  He  comes 
and  claims  your  heart.  He  wants  your  penitential 
trust,  your  fervent,  grateful  love.  He  wants  you  to 
obey  and  follow  him.     Surely  you  will  reverence  such 


358  LECTURE    XTTTT- 

a  messenger  !  But,  if  not,  then  another  one  is  coming, 
who  will  speak  no  words  of  persuasion  ;  but  with  a  re- 
sistless grasp,  thrust  you  out  of  the  vineyard,  as  unwor- 
thy longer  to  be  a  steward !  Neither  life,  nor  privi- 
leges, nor  happiness  are  yours  by  right ;  you  are  a  ten- 
ant at  will.  Despise  not  the  will  of  him  who  holds  your 
being  and  your  blessings  in  his  hands. 


LECTURE  XXIV. 

TUE  GRAIN   OF  MUSTARD  SEED  ;   OR,  THE  PERPETUITY  AND  ULTI- 

MATE  PREVALENCE  OF  CHlilSTIANITY. 

Matt.  xin.  31,  32.  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  grain  of 
mustard  seed,  which  a  man  took  and  sowed  in  his  field  :  which  indeed,  is 
the  least  of  all  seeds ;  but,  when  it  is  grown,  it  is  the  greatest  among 
herbs,  and  becometh  a  tree,  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  iu 
the  branches  thereof." 

This  unpretending  similitude  occupies  the  sublimest 
ground  of  prophecy ;  presenting,  under  a  simple  bo- 
tanical symbol,  the  same  great  theme  which  animated 
the  loftiest  strains  of  Isaiah,  David,  Daniel,  and 
Ezekiel. 

The  occasion  of  its  announcement  indicates  the  re- 
gard our  Saviour  had  for  his  people's  fears  and  solici- 
tudes in  reference  to  his  kingdom  ;  for  he  had  just 
intimated  that  of  four  classes  of  hearers  only  one  would 
believe  his  word  ;  and  had  represented  the  Church,  not 
as  a  body  of  purified  saints,  but  as  a  field  abounding 
equally  in  tares  and  wheat.  By  the  side  of  these  de- 
pressing anticipations  he  then  introduces  the  animating 
prophecy  contained  in  this  comparison. 

The  mustard  seed  had  become  proverbial  among 
the  Jews,  simply  for  its   littleness,  although  smaller 


360  LECTURE    XXIV. 

seeds  are  known.  Tlie  proverb  had  probably  tended 
to  fix  the  attention  of  men  on  this  one  feature.  In  re- 
ferring to  it  therefore,  our  Lord  seems  to  say :  "  All 
you  notice  about  the  mustard  seed  is  its  diminutive 
size.  Now,  I  would  remind  you  that  any  seed,  how- 
ever small  and  obscure,  and  even  having  no  appearance 
of  vitality,  yet  contains  within  itself  a  hidden  power 
of  growth,  which  only  requires  favoring  circumstances 
to  burst  the  rough,  dry  shell,  and  clothe  it  with  the 
vigorous  and  beautiful  form  of  vegetable  life."  Yet 
this  most  diminutive  seed  (he  probably  spoke  of  the 
Salvadora  Fersica,  or  Khardal)  can  put  forth  a  tree 
with  branches,  on  which  the  birds  may  rest. 

I  propose  now  to  consider,  with  you,  the  meaning 
of  the  parable,  and,  its  truthfulness.  Reduced  to  its 
simplest  expression,  the  truth  here  taught  is, — that  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  has  two  opposite  phases,  accordingly 
as  it  is  seen  by  the  eye  of  sense,  or  the  eye  of  faith. 
It  admits  that  there"  is  an  appearance  of  feebleness  in 
that  kingdom  ;  but  shows  that  feebleness  to  exist  only 
in  the  outward  manifestation  ;  to  be  apparent,  not  real ; 
relative,  not  absolute  ;  the  ultimate  success  of  this  cause 
being  a  question,  not  of  possibility,  nor  even  of  proba- 
bility, but  merely  of  time. 

The  institution.  Church,  or  kingdom,  which  the  Son 
of  God  is  establishing  in  this  world,  is  among  the  most 
unpromising  of  institutions  in  its  origin  and  instru- 
ments, as  it  meets  the  eye  of  a  worldly  wisdom ;  so 
that  nothing  but  a  supernatural  faith  could  have  dared 
to  hope  for  its  endurance,  had  but  half  the  array  of 
power  been  seen,  that  was  about  to  hinder  its  progress 
and  dispute  its  right  to  exist. 

Were  this   a   contest  between  abstract  truth  and 


THE    GRAIN    OF    MUSTARD    SEED.  361 

falsehood,  before  a  fair  tribunal ;  were  it  a  struggle  of 
right  with  wrong  before  the  bar  of  eternal  justice,  the 
case  would  be  very  different ;  for  righteousness  and 
justice  would  neither  have  been  deceived  by  any  sem- 
blances, nor  bribed  by  any  appeals  to  a  selfish  passion. 
"Were  it  merely  a  trial  of  God's  omnipotence  with 
creature-strength,  there  would  be  no  occasion  for  com- 
paring this  institution  to  a  grain  of  mustard  seed.  But 
it  is  not  so.  It  is  Truth  and  Kighteousness  seeking  to 
gain  the  perverted  heart  of  man.  Omnipotence  is 
indeed  on  the  side  of  this  cause,  kingdom,  or  Church. 
But  physical  power  must  make  no  direct  interference 
in  a  moral  conflict ;  the  triumph  of  which  is  to  put  the 
crown  on  the  head  of  truth  and  righteousness.  Omni- 
potence had  its  triumph  when  it  created  the  visible  out 
of  the  invisible,  existence  from  non-existence.  But  the 
triumph  of  the  Son  of  God  over  Satan  is  to  be  infinitely 
more  glorious.  His  coronation-day  will  be  the  inau- 
guration of  truth  and  love,  in  a  universe  once  devas- 
tated by  deceit  and  malignity.  The  present  temporary 
feebleness  of  truth  lies  in  its  unadaptedness  to  the  per- 
verted tastes  of  the  human  race.  The  present  transi- 
tory power  of  Satan  lies  in  the  suitableness  of  his 
kingdom  to  those  corrupted  and  perverted  tastes.  The 
earthly  and  palpable  forces  are  therefore  mainly  on 
Satan's  side  ;  while  Christ's  resources  are  spiritual,  in- 
visible, and  heavenly. 

We  then  direct  our  attention  to, 

I.  The  feebleness  of  Christ's  cause,  either  in  ap- 
proaching the  individual  human  heart,  or  in  its  bolder 
onset  upon  vast  communities.      In  the  first  it  is  the 
voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,  to  men  in  the 
16 


362  LECTURE   XXIV. 

turmoil  and  excitement  of  the  city ;  inviting  them  to 
come  from  their  gains  and  gaieties  to  its  solitude  and 
sobriety.  If  you  would  know  the  weakness  of  the 
Gospel,  try  it  to-morrow  upon  the  first  man  you  meet. 
The  probabilities  are  nine  to  ten  against  your  success. 
It  is  like  the  siege  of  Sebastopol,  which  had  a  series 
of  formidable  fortresses,  being  one  within  the  other. 
The  attention  is  defended  by  a  great  exterior  earth- 
mound.  When  that  is  taken,  you  meet  successively 
a  stern  resistance  from  error,  prejudice,  passion,  torpor 
of  conscience  and  of  the  religious  sensibilities,  insubor- 
dination and  obstinacy. 

This  is  indeed  but  one  form  of  opposition  to  Christ. 
Yet  all  the  other  forms  of  opposition  spring  from  this, 
and  fortify  it.  Tliey  would  have  existence  without  it. 
But  it  can  exist  and  act  where  none  of  them  are  found. 
And  to  him  who  knows  his  own  heart,  this  is,  at  last, 
the  one  supreme  hindrance  to  the  progress  of  the  Gos- 
pel. The  Gospel  aims  to  make  every  man  know  him- 
self to  be  a  fool.  "  If  any  man  thinketh  he  knoweth 
any  thing,  he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to 
know."  Who  can  welcome  that  ?  It  makes  all  our 
righteousness,  sin.  Who  can  bear  that  ?  It  makes  all 
our  strength,  weakness.  It  shows  our  danger  to  be 
imminent  and  awful ;  our  hopes  to  be  vain  and  illusive ; 
our  religion  to  be  irreligion ;  our  afiections,  idolatrous ; 
our  purposes  and  pursuits,  selfish  ;  and  the  end,  shame, 
despair,  and  ruin.  There  the  Gospel  meets  every  child 
of  Adam.  And  until  it  has  brought  us  to  a  thorough 
acquiescence  in  its  declarations  of  the  existence  of 
these  painful  truths,  it  has  no  promise,  no  gentler 
words  to  ofii'er.  Can  such  a  system  make  its  way  in 
this  world,  with  this  human  race  ?    When  men  have  no 


THE    GRAIN    OF    MUSTAKD    SEED.  363 

conception  of  their  need  of  its  great  remedy,  will  they 
be  willing  to  submit  to  its  regimen  !  Nay,  will  they 
who  have  no  conception  of  the  evil  of  sin,  believe  the 
Scriptm'e  warnings  to  have  any  foundation  ?  That  is 
precisely  the  inquiry  the  Saviour  replies  to  in  this  par- 
able. That  Gospel,  so  unpalatable,  so  unworldly,  so 
contrary  to  the  biases  of  the  human  heart  and  the  cur- 
rent of  the  world,  is  going  to  gain  men  until  the  race 
is  brought  over  by  it.  To  worldly  wisdom  it  appears 
most  improbable.  It  has  not  a  single  source  of  power 
which  sustains  other  institutions.  It  has  no  miKtary 
establishment ;  wealth  furnishes  it  no  help  in  this  nego- 
tiation with  the  heart.  Talent  and  learning  may  com- 
mend it  to  the  understanding  ;  and  through  it  affect  the 
sensibilities.  But  to  gain  the  heart  and  the  will  to 
Christ  and  righteousness,  they  have  no  power.  '"  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  grain  of  mustard  seed." 

But  this  weakness  is  more  prominently  visible  when 
seen  in  its  attempts  to  convert  a  nation,  or  to  mould 
human  society.  What  are  its  aims,  its  claims  and  pre- 
tensions ?  An  entire  overthrow  of  the  dominant  philo- 
sophies, religions,  customs,  and  social  institutions ;  an 
imperative  demand  on  a  people  to  abandon  their  most 
cherished  notions,  and  render  an  entire  and  cordial 
submission  to  Christ  and  his  laws.  What  then  are  the 
instruments  of  its  attack  compared  with  those  of  de- 
fence against  it  ?  Poverty  against  wealth  ;  an  unarmed 
band  of  peaceful  men  against  a  religion  defended  by 
the  whole  military  power  of  a  kingdom  ;  strangers  con- 
tending with  men  native  to  the  soil. 

But  I  would  now  direct  your  attention  more  definite- 
ly to  this  formidable  array  of  worldly  influences  against 
the  kingdom  of  Christ. 


364  LECTURE    XXIV. 

We  begin  our  description  with  tliat  intellectual 
opposition  of  Satan,  before  wliich  the  Gospel  has  ap- 
peared feeble  and  contemptible.  The  world's  leader 
has  more  intellect  than  the  world  itself.  The  anti- 
Christian  philosophers  are  not  inventors.  They  have 
merely  studied  in  a  school,  and  under  a  master  whom 
they  have  never  even  had  the  gratitude  to  thank  or  ac- 
knowledge. Did  they  know  all  the  facts  in  their  own 
mental  history,  there  would  be  a  substituting  of  shame 
for  pride,  of  horror  for  self-gratulation.  Tlie  intel- 
lectual opposition  the  Gospel  has  encountered  must  be 
attributed  to  Satan,  because  it  has  been  too  profound, 
too  protracted,  too  unceasing,  for  mere  human  agency, 
uninstigated  and  unguided  by  a  superior  power.  For 
eighteen  hundred  years  this  antagonism  has  been 
steadily  maintained  ;  now  by  direct  attack  ;  now  pro- 
ducing a  rival  philosopliy  ;  now  subtly  corrupting  the 
Christian  doctrine.  Tliere  is  nothing  in  the  doctrines 
and  facts  of  the  Gospel  adapted  to  satisfy  the  philo- 
sophical taste,  as  it  is  developed  by  a  worldly  educa- 
tion. The  first  teachers  of  Christian  doctrine  rejected 
the  pretensions  of  all  the  thought-inventors  of  their  day 
to  meet  the  soul's  real  necessities.  Tliey  substituted 
facts  for  speculation,  and  authoritative  dogma  for  man- 
originated  theories  or  the  unaided  discoveries  of  the 
human  understanding  ;  thus  demolishing  every  throne 
of  pride,  casting  down  splendid  fabrics  of  fancy  and 
every  lofty  imagination,  leaving  no  room  for  self-con- 
ceit, and  no  ground  for  boasting.  The  primitive 
teachers  received  and  imparted  every  thing  in  the 
simplicity  of  children,  as  a  direct  gift  from  heaven  ; 
rejecting  the  whole  febric  of  pantheistic  philosophy, 
and  the  pride  it  cherished  ;  regarding  faith  as  a  liigher 


THE   GRAIN   OF   MTTSTARD   SEED.  365 

form  of  mental  action  than  speculation.  Tliey  lifted 
their  warning  voices  earnestly  against  the  enemy,  as 
he  should  assume  this  guise.  "  I  know,"  said  Paul, 
"  that,  after  my  departing  shall  men  arise,  speaking 
perverse  things,  to  draw  away  disciples  after  them.  In 
the  last  days  perilous  times  shall  come ;  there  shall 
arise  men  ever  learning,  and  never  able  to  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth  ;  men  of  corrupt  minds,  repro- 
bate concerning  the  faith."  And  very  soon  the  Ebion- 
ites,  Marcionites,  Judaizers,  Nicolaitans,  Doketae  and 
Gnostics  engaged  in  this  work.  Thus  there  were 
opened  three  deep  fountains  of  error,  whose  deadly 
waters  were  designed  to  drown  and  sweep  away  this 
budding,  heaven-descended  germ ;  the  Jewish  super- 
stition, the  Oriental  Gnosticism,  and  the  prolific  Grecian 
philosophies.  The  philosophers  made  no  direct  attack, 
so  far  as  we  know,  until  Celsus  api^eared,  toward  the 
end  of  the  second  century.  Tliey  indeed  affected  to 
despise  Christianity,  until  some  of  their  own  number, 
such  as  Justin,  Athenagoras,  Pantaenus  and  others 
had  become  its  advocates,  and  exposed  to  public  gaze 
the  almost  universal  wickedness  of  the  j)agan  philoso- 
phers, as  well  as  the  falseness  of  their  theories.  Then 
the  war  commenced  ;  and  it  has  never  ceased,  to  this 
day.  Ammonius,  Crescens,  Fronto,  Porphyry,  and  the 
apostate  emperor  Julian,  all  followed  on  in  this  line  of 
hostility.  With  the  fall  of  the  Roman  empire,  this 
form  of  opposition  ceased,  to  a  great  extent,  to  be  re- 
vived on  the  continent  by  Spinoza,  and  in  Great  Britain 
by  Herbert,  Hobbes,  Collins,  Tindal,  Hume  and  others. 
It  was  taken  up  in  France  by  the  Encyclopedists  ;  in 
America,  by  Paine  and  Jefiferson.  It  then  went  for- 
ward in  a  still  more  profoimdly  philosophical  spirit, 


366  LECTURE  xxir. 

and  sustained  by  much  greater  learning,  in  Germany. 
Some  of  these  opponents  have  contented  themselves 
with  attacking  the  Gospel ;  while  others  have,  but 
with  little  success,  constructed  rival  schemes  of  phi- 
losoj)hy.  Another  form  of  this  opposition  lias  been, 
the  corruption  of  Christ's  doctrine  by  alteration  and 
mixture.  In  the  early  ages  Judaism,  dead  and  formal, 
was  brought  into  it  by  the  Ebionites  and  Nazarines. 
Then  the  Oriental  theories  were  grafted  on  it  by  the 
Doketgs,  the  Manicheans,  and  the  Gnostics  ;  and  the 
Grecian,  by  the  JSTeo-Platonists.  Then  the  Montanists 
interwove  the  ascetic  system  with  its  pure  principles, 
and  the  anti-Trinitarians  began  the  work  of  construct- 
ing a  rationalistic  Gospel.  And,  to  this  day,  this  process 
of  corrupting  the  GosjDel  continues  in  Christian  countries. 
Now,  the  power  of  these  intellectual  antagonists  to 
the  Gospel  was  manifold  and  prodigious.  They  were 
immensely  varied,  and  thus  had  the  advantage  of  suit- 
ing the  various  tastes  of  nations,  communities,  and 
individuals.  Their  mutual  opposition  to  each  other 
furnished  very  partial  relief  to  Christianity ;  for,  in 
their  opposition  to  that,  they  were  not  divided,  but 
united.  Many  of  them  had  the  right  of  occupation 
and  prescription  ;  venerable  by  their  antiquity,  and 
more  venerable  by  the  mighty  names  that  had  pro- 
fessed their  principles.  And,  above  all,  they  suited  the 
grosser  and  cherished  principles  of  human  nature, 
while  the  Gospel  suits  only  its  nobler,  but  almost  ex- 
tinguished aspirations.  And  now  in  our  day,  by  the 
side  of  a  brilliant  Pantheism,  Mormonism  and  Necro- 
mancy have  taken  the  field,  not  unsuccessfully,  with 
their  degrading  fooleries,  suited  to  men's  depraved  in- 
clinations. 


THE    GRADSr    OF   MUSTARD   SEED.  367 

And  while  it  has  these  formidable  difficulties  to 
encounter  at  home,  all  its  missionary  efforts  among  the 
more  poj^ulous  nations  have  met  with  a  powerful  resist- 
ance from  existing  systems  of  philosophy  and  false 
religion ;  especially  in  Eastern  and  Southern  Asia 
among  the  Buddliists  and  Brahmins,  and  among  the 
Mohammedans  and  corrupted  Christian  sects  of  West- 
ern Asia. 

Many  among  us  appear  not  to  be  aware  of  the  pro- 
digious intellectual  acuteness  and  activity  which  once 
characterized  the  Oriental  mind.  We  seem  to  think 
the  Brahmins  are  and  ever  have  been  a  set  of  stupid 
fanatics  ;  whereas  the  facts  of  the  case  are  these  :— the 
Brahminic  system,  intellectually  considered,  is  the  re- 
sult of  intense  thought,  vast  conceptions,  and  profound 
speculation  ;  it  is  also  the  prolific  fountain  of  some  of  the 
profoundest  speculations  of  Grecian  or  German  philos- 
oj)hy.  And  its  theology  is  really  august  and  venerable 
when  contrasted  with  the  puny  superstitions  of  the 
Roman  Church,  which  are  frequently  only  a  childish 
imitation  of  the  Indian  conception.  The  Oriental  doc- 
trines of  good  works  and  purgatory,  for  example,  are 
intellectually  sublime  ;  while  those  of  Rome  are  simply 
puerile. 

We  next  meet  the  opposition  of  the  civil,  religious 
and  ecclesiastical  powers  of  the  world.  I  put  the  civil 
with  the  religious,  because  magistrates  have  generally 
been  tools  of  the  priests  in  persecuting  the  Church. 

The  first  appeared  in  the  Jewish  Rabbis.  They  sat 
in  Moses'  seat ;  having  all  the  authority  and  influence 
that  could  be  conferred  by  a  divine  appointment,  a 
most  venerable  antiquity,  and  an  illustrious  succession 
-)i  great  and  good  men  in  the  office.     They  had  conse- 


368  LECTTJRE   XXIV. 

quently  a  powerful  hold  on  the  minds  of  their  people 
which  they  set  against  the  person,  doctrines,  and  in- 
fluence of  Christ.  Truly  he  was  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  in  their  eyes,  and  in  most  other  human  eyes  ;  but 
especially  when  they  had  secured  him  on  the  cross, 
buried  him  under  the  guardianship  of  seal  and  sentry, 
and  scattered  his  discouraged  followers  to  the  four 
winds  of  heaven.  These  disciples  rallied  indeed,  after 
his  resurrection  ;  but  the  opposition  of  the  Sanhedrim 
was  powerful  throughout  Judea. 

Nor  were  the  embarrassments  encountered  by  the 
apostles  terminated  when  they  left  the  boundaries  of 
Judea ;  for  there,  beside  the  obstacles  raised  by  the 
Jews,  they  encountered  another  and  still  more  terrible 
form  of  ecclesiastical  opposition,  in  the  pagan  priest- 
hood, whose  influence  was  likewise  immense  ;  being 
derived  from  a  moral  power  over  the  people,  fortified 
by  a  collusion  with  the  civil  powers,  and  often  by  an 
identification  with  them.  They  had  wrought  the  peo- 
ple up  to  an  intense  hostility  to  the  earliest  disciples  and 
their  teachers,  by  representing  them  as  enemies  of  the 
religion  of  their  country,  and  as  a  body  of  men  unworthy 
of  confidence.  They  had  wrought  up  the  public  mind 
to  such  a  point  of  superstitious  hatred  and  dread  of  the 
Christians,  that,  as  Tertullian  says,  "  they  attributed 
every  public  calamity  to  them.  If  thti  Tiber  over- 
f  Dwed ;  or,  if  the  Nile  did  not  overflow  ;  if  the  heavens 
stood  still,  or  the  earth  moved  ;  if  there  was  famine  or 
drought,  the  cry  was  instantly  heard,  murmuring  and 
swelling  like  an  angry  sea  :  throw  the  '  Christians  to  the 
lions.' "  And  by  their  immense  power  with  the  em- 
peror, he,  in  fact,  being  by  his  oflice  the  head  of  the 
priesthood,  they  procured  the  most  fonnidable  enact- 


THE   GRAlr<    OF   MTSTAKD   SEED.  36S 

ments  against  tlie  Church.  E"o^Y,  what  was  this  little 
band  of  missionaries ;  entering  alone,  unarmed,  un- 
Defriended,  into  the  great  cities  of  the  empire,  to  con- 
tend, with  only  spiritual  weapons,  against  this  formi- 
dable power !  And,  what  was  a  poor  little  church, 
gathered  in  some  obscure  house,  before  the  Neros  and 
Domitians,  the  mighty  Cffisars  of  Eome  !  This,  truly, 
is  the  grain  of  mustard  seed. 

Another  antagonistic  form  of  ecclesiastical  power 
is — the  Papacy  ;  a  system  founded  on  the  truth,  be- 
cause it  has  been  an  incessant  corruption  of  the  primi- 
tive truth.  Tliere  was  a  time  when  men  were  but 
grown  children ;  and  there  were  not  educational 
means  to  raise  the  masses  above  that  condition.  They 
probably  then  needed  very  strict  parental  governmen'o 
on  the  part  of  the  clergy,  who  were  almost  the  only 
educated  men.  Benevolent  pastors  then  used  the  power 
they  possessed,  for  the  good  of  their  flocks.  But  the 
love  of  power  grew  with  the  possession  ;  and  the  per- 
version grew  with  the  love  of  it,  until  the  most  for- 
midable enemy  the  Church  of  Christ  at  length  had  to 
contend  with,  was,  a  part  of  the  legitimate  Christian 
Church  by  descent ;  the  venerable  Roman  branch  of 
the  Church  catholic,  or  rather  its  clergy. 

Another  formidable  obstacle  to  the  progress  of  the 
Gospel  has  been  found  in  the  customs  and  institutions 
of  society.  As  one  of  many  instances,  select  either 
that  of  caste,  of  polygamy,  or  the  pagan  estimate  of 
woman  and  the  family.  "When  our  missionary  enters 
an  Indian  village,  he  finds  a  perfect  social  organization 
devised  by  a  superhuman  intellect,  all  prepared  as 
Sebastopol  was  for  the  allies,  by  a  long,  sly,  far-reaching 
16* 


370  LECTURE  xxrv. 

foresiglit,  to  make  the  mightiest  power  of  attack  con- 
temptible. 

But,  as  ah-eady  remarked,  the  root  or  essence  of 
all  the  relative  feebleness  of  the  Gospel  is  found  at  last 
farther  back  than  in  priesthoods,  philosophies,  or  insti- 
tutions. These  are  public ;  acting  on  masses  and 
communities  ;  that  operates  in  the  individual  heart ; 
apparently  distinct  from  them  all,  yet  in  reality  the 
source  of  them  all ;  more  formidable  than  them  all, 
while  in  appearance  the  feeblest  of  them  all. 

Tliese  are  the  earthly  forces  arrayed  against  the 
kingdom  of  Christ.  And  this  is  the  feature  of  the  case, 
illustrated  by  the  size  and  appearance  of  the  mustard 
seed.    But  there  is  another  aspect.    God  assures  us  that 

II.  The  keavenlt  akd  divine  forces  are  with  and 

WITHIN  THAT  KINGDOM. 

That  little  grain  has  in  it  a  divine  life  ;  is  preserved 
by  a  divine  care,  and  quickened  by  a  divine  power. 
It  must  then  grow,  and  in  the  fulness  of  time  become 
a  great  tree  ;  even  tilling  the  earth  with  its  shade,  its 
shelter,  its  fruit,  and  the  beauty  of  its  form. 

We  have  just  said  that  the  providence  of  God  is 
on  its  side.  One  declaration  of  Scripture  is  suflScient 
confirmation,  for  it  includes  many  others.  "  All  power 
is  given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth."  He  is  there- 
fore anointed  Eang  on  the  holy  hill  of  Zion,  "  head  over 
all  things  to  his  Church."  Although,  as  has  been  re- 
marked, this  is  not  a  trial  of  physical  strength,  yet  it 
is  a  very  significant  fact  that  he  who  is  at  the  head  of 
this  kingdom,  must  give  to  each  of  his  enemies  his 
being  and  his  faculties,  and  must  constantly  preserve 
them  all  in  existence. 


THE    GRAIN    OF   MUSTAKD    SEED.  371 

Sis^  too^  is  the  Tesidue  of  that  Divine  Sjpirit,  ivho 
has,  as  yet,  but  partially  manifested  bis  power  on  tbe 
eartb ;  as  in  tbe  scene  of  Pentecost,  tbe  great  Refor- 
mation, and  tbe  gradual  cbristianizing  of  nations. 

And  all  tbis  is  crowned  by  the  clear  and  full  promise 
of  the  Father,  that  this  cause  shall  prevail.  Let  tbem 
wbo  will,  doubt  if  sucb  a  promise  bas  been  given  ;  but 
to  tbem  wbo  believe,  tbere  is  an  assurance  tbat  beaven 
and  eartb  sball  sooner  pass  away,  tban  tbat  tbe  Son  of 
God  sball  fail  to  come  off  conqueror  in  tbis  tremendous 
conflict.  He  sball  see  of  tbe  travail  of  bis  soul,  and 
be  satisfied.  Tbe  kingdoms  of  tbis  world  sball  become 
tbe  kingdoms  of  our  Lord,  and  of  bis  anointed. 

And  we  are  no  longer  to  regard  tbis  promise  as 
merely  propbetic.  To  tbe  ancient  Cburcb,  it  was  ;  to 
us  it  is  partly  bistorical.  To  select  one  illustration 
from  a  tbousand :  wdien  tbe  Lord  of  life,  tbe  founder 
of  tbis  kingdom  was  laid,  a  silent  corpse,  in  bis  sepul- 
cbre,  tbe  kingdom  was  like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed 
fallen  uj)on  tbe  ground  to  be  for  ever  unseen,  lost,  and 
forgotten.  But  tbe  promise  of  tbe  Fatber,  often  re- 
peated by  bimself,  was,  tbat  be  sbould  rise  from  among 
tbe  dead  and  ascend  to  tbe  tlirone  of  beaven.  He  is 
risen  ;  and  in  tbat  resurrection  is  the  virtual  fulfilment 
of  tbe  whole  promise.  Tbat  resurrection  is  tbe  living 
seed  of  all  future  history.  Tbis  is  to  the  believer  proof 
conclusive.  But  there  are  other  considerations  which 
tbe  unbeliever  can  appreciate.     One  is  : 

The  adaptedness  of  the  Gospel  to  convert  man. 
Whatever  conclusions  science  may  reach  concerning 
the  physical  origin  of  the  human  races,  observation 
and  Scripture  show  that  God  has  constituted  a  com- 
plete moral  unity,  with  boundless  diversity,  not  only 


372  LECTUKE    XXIV. 

of  national,  but  also  of  individual  or  personal  proper- 
ties. "  God  liatli  made  of  one  blood  all  men."  And 
we  find  alike  in  all,  that  v^hile  the  germ  of  spiritual 
life  is  so  paralyzed  that  only  the  Spirit  of  God  can  re- 
quicken  it,  yet  that  germ  is  there,  in  so  far  as  that  the 
Gospel  finds  every  man  a  man,  though  fallen ;  not  a  block, 
nor  a  brute.  The  conversion  of  the  world  is,  after  all, 
to  be  an  individual  change  ;  whether  in  one  soul  at  a 
time,  or  ten  thousand,  it  matters  not.  The  weakness 
of  the  Gospel  therefore  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  opposed 
to  the  predominating  influences  in  the  soul ;  but  it  has 
also  friends  within  the  citadel,  and  there  is  its  strength. 
The  judgment,  when  it  can  fairly  see  the  Gospel,  sees 
the  wisdom  of  its  requirements,  the  harmony  of  the 
system  with  the  constitution  of  nature  and  of  man. 
And  a  growing  experience  and  acquaintance  with 
human  exj)erience  more  fully  convince  us  that  the 
author  of  nature  is  the  author  of  the  Gospel.  An  ex- 
panding observation  shows  its  transforming  and  ele- 
vating power  in  individuals  and  communities.  The 
terms  and  conditions  of  salvation  are  seen  to  be  per- 
fectly reasonable  and  divinely  generous.  Then  the 
judgment  sees,  too,  that  it  is  only  the  Gospel  that 
proposes  to  man  objects  worthy  of  his  pursuit ;  while 
it  alone  truly  points  out  his  difiiculties,  and  furnishes  a 
relief  from  them.  The  conscience  of  every  man  is 
with  the  Gospel,  whether  he  knows  it  or  not.  Men 
have  pretended  to  find  conscientious  objections  to  it. 
But  it  was  a  pretence.  The  Gospel  is  the  only  eflica- 
cious  enemy  of  sin  ;  the  law  operating  alone  is  sincere 
in  its  opposition  to  sin,  but  powerless.  The  Gospel 
deals  with  the  conscience  where  it  enters,  and  scatters 
to  the  winds  the  objections  of  the  speculative  under* 


THE    GRAIN    OF   MUSTARD    SEED.  373 

Standing.  It  has  a  friend  in  every  noble  sentiment  of 
the  heart.  The  heart  yearns  for  such  compassion  as  the 
Saviour  breathed ;  for  such  love  as  there  weeps  and 
bleeds  and  dies  for  us.  It  wants  such  a  hope  as  is  there 
proffered.  These  are  intrinsic  elements  of  power,  which 
make  us  see  it  to  be  the  wisdom  and  power  of  God ; 
though  it  be  to  the  Greek  folly,  and  weakness  in  the 
worldling's  eye.  The  builders  may  reject  this  corner- 
stone, but  God  will  make  it  the  head  of  the  corner. 
It  has  been  laid  in  troublous  times  ;  but  the  top-stone 
must  yet  come  forth  amid  the  acclamations  of  men  and 
angels.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  no  accident,  no  child 
of  chance,  no  invention  of  short-sighted,  feeble-handed 
man.  It  is  the  purpose  of  him  who  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  earth,  and  spread  abroad  the  heavens. 
And  he  has  declared  that  this  stone,  cut  out  of  the 
mountains  without  hands,  shall  fill  the  earth.  It  goes 
forth  still  as  insignificant  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed, 
attended  not  with  pomp  and  civil  power.  But  you  see 
it  working  with  men  as  individuals,  having  a  voice  for 
the  men  of  every  nation  and  age.  It  comes  even  to 
the  children.  Numbers  against  it  are  nothing.  The 
adults  of  this  generation  may  be  furious  in  their  hos- 
tility ;  but  it  shall  enter  the  hearts  of  their  children 
and  grandchildren,  and  change  their  hostility  to  fervent 
friendship.  The  queen  of  Madagascar  may  try  to  crush 
this  little  seed ;  but  her  successor  shall  nurture  and 
defend  it  with  all  the  influences  of  the  throne. 

The  strength  of  this  argument  lies  in  both  its 
natural  and  its  supernatural  aspect.  Naturally,  we 
should  infer  that  a  system  of  philosophy  or  religion 
which  met  the  known  and  profoundest  wants  of  mankind 
would  ultimately  become  universal.     Looking  to  the 


3T4  LECTURE   XXIV. 

supernatural  aspect  of  it,  we  should  say  this  adaptation 
is  so  far  an  expression  of  the  Creator's  purpose,  which, 
while  not  an  absolute  proof  of  ultimate  prevalence, 
powerfully  combines  with  other  evidences  to  prove  it. 

But  we  must  bestow  a  notice  upon  still  another 
feature  of  the  subject, — the  historical  development  of 
Christianity  /  which  strongly  confirms  this  prophetic 
announcem,ent. 

.1  propose,  then,  the  further  confirmation  of  this 
prophecy,  uttered  eighteen  centuries  ago,  by  a  brief 
glance  at  the  religious  history  of  those  centuries. 

What  says  the  record  of  that  period  concerning 
the  growth  of  this  mustard  seed  ? 

That  it  has  survived  the  destruction  or  paralysis 
of  all  its  earlier  rivals. 

Where  are  the  writings  of  Celsus,  the  theories  of 
the  Manichees,  the  imperial  productions  of  Julian  ? 
No  man  but  the  curious  scholar  knows  them.  But 
where  are  the  history  and  sayings  of  Jesus  Christ ;  the 
words  of  Paul  ?  Tliey  are  now  rendered  into  more 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  languages,  and  with  the 
increasing  power  of  steam-presses  promising  to  shake 
their  leaves  in  the  breezes  of  every  land,  before  the 
century  shall  have  expired.  Tlie  only  surviving  doc- 
trine of  the  early  heresies  that  I  can  trace  to  our  day, 
as  now  occupying  a  prominent  position,  is  the  denial 
of  the  Tnnity.  Whether  this  is  gaining  ground,  each 
of  us  must  judge  for  himself.  The  Gospel  has  not 
only  survived  these  attacks,  and  outlived  these  rival 
and  antagonist  influences,  it  has  also 

Identified  itself  with  the  practical  intelligence  of  the 
world.  It  has  for  fifteen  centuries  accompanied  all  the 
higher  developments  of  man.      Grecian  and  Roman 


THE    GEAIN    OF   MUSTAED    SEED.  375 

civilization  failed  to  accompany  man  beyond  a  certain 
point.  And  when  tliey  ceased,  nothing  was  left  to  take 
their  place  but  Christianity.  These  were  the  last  suc- 
cessful efforts  of  the  human  mind  to  create  an  unchris- 
tian civilization  on  a  broad  scale.  But  Christianity 
took  man  up  where  they  left  him,  and  has  gone  on  ever 
since,  hand  in  hand  with  hira.  Commerce,  the  arts, 
agriculture,  freedom  and  education  flourish  most  where 
its  influence  is  the  most  complete.  The  most  christian- 
ized nations  are  now  the  strongest  nations.  The  nation 
now  most  rapidly  developing  its  own  resources,  to  the 
surprise  of  the  world,  is  that  whose  European  ancestry 
were  most  faithful  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  in  which 
Christian  institutions  have  most  thoroughly  penetrated 
the  hearts  of  the  people.     And,  moreover. 

It  is  now  growing,  while  every  opposing  system  of 
'philosophy  and  religion  is  waning.  Hindooism  in  its 
two  forms  is,  by  the  admission  of  its  votaries,  losing  its 
power  over  the  Indian  mind.  Tlie  greatest  modern 
German  philosopher,  Schelling,  was  called  on  recently 
to  address  an  assembly  in  Berlin,  composed  in  part  of 
the  elite  of  the  kingdom.  It  was  an  hour  of  deep  so- 
lemity,  when  amid  that  brilliant  throng  of  two  thou- 
sand people,  numbering  many  distinguished  philos- 
ophers and  scholars  of  Prussia,  the  venerable  man 
gave  utterance  to  the  single  expression — "  after  all  our 
labors,  our  philosophy  is  but  negative."  The  effect 
was  electric.  It  fell  like  a  hammer  on  the  hearts  of 
those  who  had  considered  the  German  philosophy  as 
the  almost  divine  attainment  of  the  human  mind. 
Almost  the  same  thing  was  uttered  by  the  cham23ion 
of  Unitarianism  in  this  country,  after  he  had  retired 
from  the  heat  of  the  conflict.     I  speak  not  now  of  the 


376  LECTUBE   XXIV. 

future,  of  which  I  have  no  doubt ;  that  it  will  confirm 
this  prophecy  of  Scripture ;  but  of  the  present  I  say 
with  confidence,  amid  all  the  agitations  of  the  human 
mind,  and  the  activity  of  an  anti-Christian  spirit,  there 
is  a  steady  growth  in  the  human  race  of  this  conviction, 
the  words  of  Christ  are  eternal  truth. 

Then,  to  this  we  may  add  one  other  historical  testi- 
mony,— the  decays  which  this  tree  has  undergone  have 
never  sapped  its  life.  Indeed  it  is  most  interesting  to 
see  how  the  evidence  is  accumulating,  that  life  has 
never  been  wholly  extinguished  in  the  Church,  even 
in  the  times  of  most  general  apostasy  ;  to  mark  how,  in 
the  midst  of  general  degeneracy  and  the  corruption 
of  Christianity,  when  religion  seems  to  have  become 
merely  a  hollow  mask,  there  have  always  remained  a 
portion  in  whom  spiritual  life  still  had  a  place.  Seven 
thousand  in  the  olden  time  were  left  hidden  from  the 
eye,  even  of  the  zealous  Elijah,  faithful  to  Jehovah ; 
when  the  king,  the  priests,  the  prophets  and  the  nation 
had  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal.  So  there  was  a  faithful 
remnant  when  the  Lord  appeared  in  the  Jewish  Church. 
Simeon  and  Anna,  Elizabeth,  Joseph,  and  Mary  were 
still  faithful.  The  Roman  Church  declined  from  the 
faith  ;  and,  like  the  great  dragon  in  the  Apocalypse, 
swept  the  stars  out  of  heaven  with  its  tail.  But  the  Al- 
bigenses,  Waldenses,  Hussites  and  Lollards  too,  were 
found,  those  who  preceded  the  great  Reformation  ;  that 
glorious  movement,  in  whose  history  we  see  the  princi- 
ple of  this  parable  illustrated,  and  its  truth  confirmed. 
There  is  a  vital  power  in  the  Church  which  may  suffer 
sad  decays  and  declensions.  But,  like  the  bulbous  root 
that  lies  in  the  earth,  when  winter  has  cut  down  every 
flower  and  leaf,  nay,  the  very  trunk  itself,  yet  it  only 


THE   GRAIN    OF   MUSTARD   SEED.  377 

waits  the  breath  of  spring  to  invigorate  it  again,  and 
call  it  into  new  life  and  growth  and  fruitfulness. 

At  this  day,  the  contest  with  Rome  appears  to  some 
dubious.  To  them  we  cannot  cite  this  struggle  as  an 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  parable.  But  to  our  own 
view  the  grain  of  mustard  seed  is  growing,  and  out- 
growing the  limits  to  which  that  ungodly  hierarchy 
would  limit  it.  I  refer,  for  example,  to  that  great 
movement  now  taking  place  in  southwestern  Europe. 
Spain  and  Sardinia,  two  of  the  most  zealous  and  unscru- 
pulous supporters  of  the  Papal  despotism,  are  now 
provoking  their  spiritual  Lord  to  extremely  hazardous 
measm-es  of  revenge  and  intimidation,  by  their  inva- 
sion of  the  monastic  system,  that  pillar  of  Popery. 
Tliat  indeed  is  a  political  measure  ;  but  it  weakens  the 
hands  of  Popery  as  a  religious  system.  Another  fact 
illustrates  and  confirms  the  statement  here  made. 
While  Ireland  alone  has  been  sending  two  million 
Romanists  to  this  country  within  the  last  ten  years,  the 
Roman  Church,  on  high  authority,  is  said  not  to  have 
increased  in  numbers  here  within  that  time.  The  fact 
that  the  Roman  hierarchy  are  now  forced  upon  the 
Roman  people  by  military  power,  will  further  confirm 
the  conviction  that  the  moral  power  of  that  despotism 
is  gone,  and  that  it  can  less  and  less  obstruct  the  pro- 
gress of  the  pure  Gospel.  The  same  may  be  said  of  all 
the  alliances  of  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  powers. 
Since  the  day  of  the  Puritan  separation  to  the  present, 
established  churches  have  a  diminished  power  to  ob 
struct  the  progress  of  the  Gospel  and  a  spiritual  re- 
ligion. Tlie  noble  movement  in  Scotland  headed  by 
Dr.  Chalmers,  is  a  sublime  illustration  of  the  vital 
power  there  is  in  the  Church  of  Christ.     Go  forth  now 


378  LECTUKE   XXIV. 

and  contemjjlate  the  six  tlioiisand  Protestant  missioix- 
aries  with  their  sixteen  thousand  assistants.  And  if 
we  should  adopt  the  Roman  Catholic  method  of  com- 
putation, we  should  show  22,000  for  their  6,070.  "We 
are  spending  for  four  institutions*  $2,720,000  annu- 
ally. There  are  more  than  3,000,000  Bibles  annually 
distributed ;  making,  within  this  century,  40,000,000. 
One  press  supplies  3,600,000  copies  of  a  religious  paper 
for  children  ;  a  thing  not  dreamed  of  in  the  beginning 
of  this  century. 

How  sublime  then  is  this  simple  utterance  of  our 
Lord  ;  which,  while  it  contradicted  the  convictions  of 
all  the  leaders  of  thought  in  his  day,  really  contained 
in  itself  the  great  outline  of  history  through  eighteen 
of  the  most  important  centuries  of  the  world's  duration ! 

Turn  your  view  back,  for  a  moment,  and  listen  to 
Jesus  uttering  this  bold  prophecy :  then  follow  his 
little  band  of  missionaries,  soon  including  Paul,  as 
they  go  forth  to  their  heavenly  enterprise  ;  and  see 
Judaism,  Paganism,  and  every  form  of  Satanic  power 
giving  way  before  the  simple  utterance  of  Jesus'  Gos- 
pel. Come  down  to  the  opening  of  the  fourth  century, 
and  see  Constantine  bowing  the  knee  to  Jesus.  In  less 
than  half  a  century  see  heathenism  generally  renounced 
by  educated  people  ;  so  that  those  who  adhered  to  their 
superstitions  were  then  first  called  Pagans,  by  way  of 
reproach  ;  the  epithet  being  equivalent  to  boor. 

Follow  now  the  path  of  the  adventurous  colonists 
who  came  across  the  Atlantic  to  found  new  States  in 
this  new  hemisphere,  bringing  with  them  still  only  this 

*  British  Bible  Society.  Wesleyan  Mission  Society. 

Church  Mission  Society.  Gospel  Propagation  Society. 


THE    GKAIN    OF    MUSTARD    SEED.  379 

grain  of  mustard  seed.  To  the  eye  of  worldly  wisdom 
liow  feeble  the  band,  how  unpromising  the  enteriDrise  ! 
And  when  the  first  spring  comes  to  relax  the  rigor  and 
diminish  the  horrors  of  their  position,  how  questionable 
even  their  continuance  here  1  But  lo  !  this  tree  is  now 
spread  from  the  uninliabitable  circle  of  the  north  to  the 
extreme  south,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  And 
an  earnest  zeal  in  Britain  and  America  is  propagating 
the  same  system  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  See,  for  ex- 
ample, that  solitary  missionary  band  going  to  the  South 
Sea  islands,  toward  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
They  are  feeble  in  their  missionary  spirit,  as  also  in  less 
important  things.  Scarcely  one  of  them  has  faith  to 
hold  out  to  the  end.  And  yet  from  them  probably 
shone  forth  the  light  which  soon  gave  to  the  Sandwich 
Islands  the  conviction  that  their  gods  and  their  religion 
were  but  vanity.  Tliis  prepared  the  way  for  the  Gos- 
pel-missionary, who,  led  by  the  hand  of  him  that 
uttered  this  parable,  arrived  there  just  in  time  to  meet 
a  people  longing  for  the  knowledge  of  the  true  re- 
ligion. 

Fellow  disciples  of  Christ,  we  must  then  fully  ap- 
prehend the  feeble  aspects  of  our  cause.  The  past 
should  never  be  forgotten.  Present  successes  expose  us 
to  the  danger  of  forgetting  those  darker  dispensations 
through  which  the  Church  has  passed.  The  tree  is 
now  rapidly  growing,  and  spreading  its  branches  even 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  California,  the  Pacific  Isles, 
Australia  and  Africa,  are  lifting  up  tlieir  hands  thank- 
fully to  God  for  the  coming  of  his  kingdom  in  their 
benighted  regions.  Every  anniversary  we  attend  shows 
"US  progress.  And  all  this  has  come  without  much  sac^ 
rifice,  exertion,  solicitude  or  prayer,  on  our  part.    Others 


380  LECTUKE   XXIV. 

indeed  Jiave  toiled,  and  we  are  entered  into  their  labors. 
We  do  well  to  recall  the  times  of  ploughing  the  ground 
for  this  seed ;  the  sowing  in  tears  of  those  gloomj 
periods,  the  solicitudes,  the  sacrifices  and  efforts  of 
those  who  have  gone  before  us.  The  Saviour  presents 
to  us  indeed  in  the  parable  only  the  progress  and  ulti- 
mate prevalence  of  his  Church ;  but  he  first  watered 
the  soil  with  his  own  blood.  Prophets  too,  apostles, 
and  martyrs,  faithful  men  and  women,  from  age  to  age, 
have  contributed  the  blood  that  hath  enriched  this  soil. 
"We  must  not  then  shrink  if  the  dispensation  of  sacrifice 
and  suffering  should  not  yet  be  past.  Prayer,  sacrifice 
and  labor  are  ever  the  conditions  of  success.  And  we 
must  remember  with  sympathy  the  laborers  that  are 
still  called  to  suffer. 

But  the  parable  and  the  history  which  thus  far  illus- 
trate its  meaning  and  confirm  its  prophecy,  also  call 
us  to  exercise  great  confidence  as  to  the  ultimate  suc- 
cess of  our  cause,  even  under  the  most  discouraging 
circumstances.  Always  remember  that  the  little  grain 
has  within  it  an  indestructible  life.  Our  "  labor  is  not 
in  vain  in  the  Lord."  It  is  only  sense  and  a  blinded 
understanding  that  behold  weakness  in  this  cause.  It 
has  the  strength  of  an  indestructible  life ;  the  power 
of  perfect  adaptedness  to  its  end ;  the  pledge  of  him 
who  cannot  deceive  nor  err,  that  it  shall  yet  subdue  the 
world  to  him.  Its  history  confirms  this  prophecy.  All 
the  enemies  now  in  the  field  have  been  conquered  once 
and  again.  Every  old  nation,  to-day  Christian,  was 
once  j>agan  or  papal.  Ask  the  history  of  the  change. 
You  will  find  a  vast  variety  in  the  details.  But  they 
generally  agree  in  this :  some  feeble  laborer  or  laborers 


THE   GRAIN   OF   MU8TAKD   SEED.  381 

came,  in  the  midst  of  great  opposition  and  embarrass- 
ments, and  sowed  a  precious  seed,  pungent  enough  to 
awaken  resistance  in  the  soil  that  should  receive  it,  yet 
despicably  small  in  the  eye  of  wits  and  sages,  and 
worldly-wise  people.  While  some  despised,  some  tried 
to  crush  it  or  cast  it  out.  But  it  has  grown  to  its 
present  flourishing  state  and  gigantic  stature,  despite 
of  all  their  enmity.  So  shall  be  its  future  growth  until 
its  spreading  branches  fill  the  earth.  You  know  the 
law  of  vegetation  to  which  our  Saviour  once  made 
reference ;  its  powers  of  indefinite  increase,  infinite 
multiplication.  Sow  one  little  grain  this  year,  it  shall 
return  you  thirty  or  a  hundred.  Sow  them  next  year, 
and  you  have  nine  hundred  or  ten  thousand  ;  the  next 
year,  eight  hundred  and  ten  thousand,  or  a  hundred 
million.  In  a  few  years  your  grain  field  shall  whiten 
the  surface  of  this  entire  planet.  Sow  this  seed,  ser- 
vants of  God,  in  every  heart,  in  every  house,  in  ererv 
land,  and  wait  with  joyful  expectation  the  result. 


PAET  W. 

PERSONAL   AND   ETERNAL    CONSEQUENCES    OF   ACCEPTING  OR 
REJECTING   THE    OFFERS    OF   THE    GOSPEL. 


§  1.    Rhtteibution. 

Lect,        XXV.  The  rich  man   and  the   beggar — Death  terminates 
probation. 
§  2.    Judgment,  or  mnal  discrimination. 

Iject.      XXVI.  The  Drag-net — The  final  discrimination. 
§  3.    Rewards  proportioned  to  merit. 

JLect.     XXVII.  The  absence  of  the  King — Rewards  equitably  dis- 
tributed. 
§  4.    Ruin. 

Lecf.    XXVin.  The  Rich  Fool — Grave  miscalculations. 
"  XXIX.  The  buried  Talent — Neglect  of  Duty,  and  its  con- 

sequences. 
"  XXX.  The  Prince's  "Wedding — A  soul  unfit  for  heaven. 

"  XXXI.  The  barren  Fig-tree — A  useless  life  ending  in  ruin. 

."        XXXII.  The  Ten  Virgins — Unprepared  for  death. 


LECTURE  XXY. 

DIVES  AND  LAZARUS  ;  OR,  DEATH,  THE  END  OF  PEOBATIOM. 

Luke  xvi.  19-31,  "  There  was  a  certain  rich  man,  which  was  clotheo 
in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  fared  sumptuously  every  day :  And  there  wat 
a  certain  beggar  named  Lazarus,  which  was  laid  at  his  gate  fuU  of  sores, 
and  desiring  to  be  fed  with  the  crumbs  which  fell  from  the  rich  man's 
table  :  moreover  the  dogs  came  and  licked  his  sores.  And  it  came  to  pasa 
that  the  beggar  died,  and  was  carried  by  the  angels  into  Abraham's  bosom  : 
the  rich  man  also  died,  and  was  buried  ;  And  in  heU  he  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
being  in  torments,  and  seeth  Abraham  afar  off,  and  Lazarus  in  his  bosom. 
And  he  cried  and  said,  Father  Abraham,  have  mercy  on  me,  and  send 
Lazarus,  that  he  may  dip  the  tip  of  his  finger  m  water,  and  cool  my 
tongue,  for  I  am  tormented  in  this  flame.  Bat  Abraham  said,  Son,  remem- 
ber that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  good  things,  and  likewise  Laza- 
rus evil  things  :  but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented.  And 
beside  all  this,  between  us  and  you  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed  :  so  that  they 
which  would  pass  from  hence  to  you  cannot ;  neither  can  they  pass  to  us, 
that  tcoidd  come  from  thence.  Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee  therefore,  fatlier, 
that  thou  wouldest  send  him  to  my  father's  house  :  For  I  have  five  brethren ; 
that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of  tor- 
ment. Abraham  saith  unto  him.  They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  let 
them  hear  them.  And  he  said,  Nay,  father  Abraham  :  but  if  one  went 
unto  them  from  the  dead,  they  will  repent.  And  he  said  unto  him,  If 
they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  be  persuaded, 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead." 

What  a  contrast  is  here  exhibited  in  the  lives  of 
two  men  !     One  is  described  as  having  for  the  object 
of  life, — self-indulgence.     He  was  not  vulgar,  riotous, 
17 


386  LECTUKE    XXV. 

vicious ;  only  godless,  irreligious,  selfish,  prayerless 
and  worldly.  The  other  had  his  hope  in  God  and 
heaven.  Dives  (for  so  we  agree  to  call  him,  after  the 
Latins),  had  all  the  leisure  which  wealth  could  secure 
for  an  uninterrupted  attention  to  the  service  of  God 
and  his  soul's  welfare  ;  all  the  opportunity  it  can  fur- 
nish for  pious  labors.  But  he  lived  for  himself  and  the 
world.  Then  their  conditions  are  contrasted.  The  one 
is  rich ;  the  other,  poor.  Then  they  are  contrasted  in 
their  deaths.  The  one  was  buried ;  doubtless  elegantly, 
attended  by  many  mourning  friends.  The  other  died. 
But  his  body  is  not  mentioned  here,  as  no  one  cared 
for  it.  Then  their  destinies  are  contrasted.  This  was 
the  point  of  the  story.  The  form  of  worldliness  our 
Saviour  was  particularly  reproving  on  the  occasion  of 
describing  these  men,  was  covetousness.  He  therefore 
showed  that  money  imposes  responsibilities  on  its  pos- 
sessors, while  it  also  fm-nishes  them  the  means  of  self- 
indulgence.  It  is  on  the  latter  fact  men  are  prone 
chiefly  to  dwell  in  their  estimate  of  wealth ;  on  the 
former  their  Redeemer  would  fix  their  supreme  atten- 
tion. He  further  reminds  us  that  money  cannot  be 
carried  away  ;  so  that  wealth  and  poverty  alike  termi- 
nate with  life.  He  also  shows  that  men  may  pass  from 
the  two  extremes  of  this  life  to  the  two  opposite  ex- 
tremes of  the  next.  Honors,  possessions,  enjoyments, 
may  be  exchanged  for  shame,  j)Overty,  and  misery  ; 
while  also  the  latter  may  be  exchanged  for  the  former. 
Here  the  unseen  world  is  unveiled  ;  and  both  condi- 
tions of  human  beings  are  shown  to  be  extreme.  Here 
we  see  the  first  becoming  last,  and  the  last  first ;  the 
highest  taking  the  lowest  place,  and  the  lowest  passing 
to  the  highest.     "We  see,  here,  also,  the  man  who  was 


DIVES   AND   LAZAKU8.  38l 

prayerless  on  earth  forced  to  pray  in  hell.  And  yet  it 
is  a  strange  specimen  of  prayer ;  made,  not  to  God, 
but  to  a  saint ;  and  faring,  as  all  other  prayers  to  de- 
parted saints,  little  to  the  benefit  of  the  petitioner. 
But  the  prominent  feature  of  the  parable  is  that  of 
death,  as  the  introduction  to  an  eternal  condition  of 
blessedness  or  woe.  Both  these  men  die,  as  all  others 
must.  One  is  described  as  dying  under  the  guardian- 
ship of  angels,  who  carry  his  spirit  directly  to  a  state 
of  repose  and  blessedness.  Of  the  other,  our  attention 
is  called  to  his  burial,  in  order  to  see  the  vain  pomp  of 
a  man's  burial,  whose  soul  may  be  in  hell,  while  men 
are  pronouncing  a  eulogy  on  his  virtues.  We  are  not 
informed  whether  they  passed  to  a  planet,  or  to  open 
space.  Our  curiosity  is  never  gratified  as  to  the  part 
of  space  where  departed  spirits  are  gathered  after 
deatli ;  perhaps,  because  we  cannot  now  comprehend  the 
relations  of  disembodied  spirits  to  space.  The  infinitely 
more  important  point  is  presented  with  the  utmost 
clearness  and  fulness,  that  there  are  two  perfectly  con- 
trasted states  there.  And  the  parable  confirms  the 
most  solemn  views  any  one  can  possibly  take  of  death. 
It  is  here  presented  as  an  exchange  of  good  for  evil, 
and  evil  for  good  ;  as  an  accumulation  of  evil  or  of 
good. 

Our  attention  is  first  called  then  to  notice, 

I.  The  nature  and  extent  of  the  changes  death 

PRODUCES. 

We  are  taught  here, 

1.  That  it  is  an  exchange  of  conditions  for  hoth 
classes.  That  is,  the  one  exchanges  all  his  evil  for 
good  ;  the  other,  all  his  good  for  evil.     "  Son,  remem- 


388  LECTURE   XXV. 

ber,  that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  good  thingS; 
and  likewise  Lazarus,  evil  things  ;  but  now  he  is  com- 
forted, and  thou  art  tormented."  Let  us  begin  with 
the  rich  man.  You  will  recollect  he  is  not  punished 
for  having  been  rich ;  for,  Abraham  was  exceeding 
rich  ;  nor  is  Lazarus  saved  because  he  was  poor,  or  had 
suffered  so  much  in  this  life.  But  the  Saviour  selected 
these  two  men  from  the  two  extremes  of  society,  in 
order  to  show,  both  that  the  outward  distinctions  of  the 
present  life  have  no  value  in  the  future  life,  and  that 
men  may  pass  from  the  two  extreme  positions  in  soci- 
ety here,  to  the  two  extreme  opposites  of  our  eternal 
condition  hereafter. 

A  certain  rich  man  !  He  is  not  named.  To  name 
him  would  have  inflicted  needless  suffering  on  surviv- 
ing friends.  His  name  had  once  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth  here  with  encomiums.  It  was  the  sign  of  all 
that  delights  worldly  minds.  But  when  death  comes, 
the  merciful  Saviour  forbears  to  mention  it,  while  de- 
picting his  present  condition.  It  is  only  a  certain,  a 
particular  rich  man.  He  lived  and  enjoyed  life,  just  as 
individuals  are  doing  now ;  and  probably  he  has  ten 
thousand  imitators  this  very  day  on  earth. 

He  had  a  house.  It  is  not  described  ;  and  there- 
fore we  are  at  liberty  merely  to  imagine  that  it  was 
comfortable,  in  the  highest  degree  that  the  art  of  his 
day  could  make  it,  and  it  was  elegant.  N^o  disagree- 
able sights,  sounds  or  odoi'S  could  invade  its  hallowed 
atmosphere.  All  was  beauty  and  order  ;  every  thing 
ministered  to  some  want  of  the  body  or  the  mind 
But,  one  day  he  was  summoned  to  quit  the  premises, 
It  was  a  rude  summons  ;  yet  no  earthly  power  could 
rebuke  or  repel  the  intruder,     "  Thou  fool,  this  night 


DIVES    AND   LA2AKUS.  389 

shall  tliy  soul  be  required  of  thee  ;  then  whose  shall " 
this  elegant  mansion  be  !  And  he  went  away,  leaving 
only  his  body  to  be  buried.  He  went  away.  And  our 
Saviour  has  told  us,  whither.  Yet  there  is  not  a  word 
about  the  geography  or  the  architecture  of  his  new 
residence.  A  few  bold,  awful  strokes  of  the  prophetic 
pencil  sketch  it  on  the  canvas  to  our  eye.  It  is  a 
dreary  abode  !  Whoever  built  it  had  no  reference  tc 
the  cultivated  taste  of  the  tenant ;  nor  even  to  his  com- 
fort. It  seems  more  like  a  dreary  waste ;  a  wide 
wilderness,  over  which  volcanic  fires  have  passed,  and 
in  their  track  scorched  every  green  thing  and  turned 
every  lovely  plant  to  ashes,  leaving  only  scinders  and 
scoriae  to  blast  tlie  eye  that  looks  upon  them.  And  is 
this  the  exchange  of  dwellings  a  man  may  make  at 
death  ?     So  our  Redeemer  says. 

He  had  raiments.  They  are  briefly  described.  Pur- 
ple was  a  costly  color,  being  extracted  from  a  shell-fish 
of  the  Mediterranean  Sea ;  each  fish  furnishing  but 
one  or  two  drops  of  the  coloring  liquid.  It  was  at  first 
a  royal  color ;  and  afterwards  passed  over  equally  to 
the  use  of  the  richer  citizens.  The  fine  linen,  or  byssus, 
was  an  exquisite  linen ;  probably  as  fine  and  soft  as 
silk  or  cotton,  and  of  purest  white.  It  was  the  cloth 
of  kings  and  priests.  And  the  man  who  could  afibi-d 
daily  to  clothe  himself  in  these  materials,  was  among 
the  wealthiest.  How  they  graced  his  person,  and 
added  to  whatever  native  beauty  he  possessed  !  But 
there  came  one  day  a  summons  to  take  them  all  off, 
give  up  the  key  of  his  splendid  wardi'obe,  and  pass 
away,  to  be  wrapped  in  a  windingsheet  of  fire  !  And 
is  that  the  exchange  ?     So  Jesus  says. 

He  had  a  select  society.     Some  were  gay;  some 


390  LECTUKE    XXV. 

were  learned  ;  some  were  elegant ;  some  were  witty ", 
some  were  distinguislied  in  art ;  some  in  war,  and 
some  in  tlie  state.  They  kept  liim  in  perpetual  forget- 
f Illness  of  his  infirmities,  of  his  sins ;  yes,  and  of  his 
God  and  his  destiny.  Every  thing  was  contrived  to 
keep  off  certain  unpleasant  subjects,  and  certain  rebel- 
lious questionings  within.  But  he  was  called  away 
from  that  society.  Not  one  could  save  him  ;  not  one 
could  even  offer  a  prayer  to  God  for  him  ;  he  had  taken 
care  to  keep  the  gloomy  praying  ones  at  a  respectful 
distance.  He  went  away.  Perhaj^s  the  man  that  spoke 
at  his  magnificent  funeral,  and  recounted  his  virtues 
and  his  generous  deeds,  painted  a  beautiful  scene,  repre- 
senting him  as  moving  among  demigods ;  sitting  at 
yet  more  sumptuous  feasts,  clothed  in  yet  richer  gar- 
ments, and  enjoying  yet  profounder  discussions  and 
loftier  eloquence  and  more  brilliant  wit  than  at  his 
table  here.  But  it  was  all  a  lie  ;  he  was  in  hell,  lifting 
his  imploring  eye  for  the  beggar  Lazarus  to  come  ;  not 
to  condescend  to  speak  to  him,  but  just  to  touch  his 
tongue  with  water.  He  saw  a  blessed  company  indeed. 
Bat  he  was  not  in  it.     It  was  afar  off. 

He  had  servants.  They  flew  at  his  signal  to  fulfil 
his  wishes ;  yes,  they  anticipated  almost  every  want. 
And  he  had  come  to  feel  that  he  really  was  made  of 
some  superior  material,  and  that  his  wants  were  of 
very  great  consequence.  Poor  man !  he  left  all  his 
servants,  and  went  where  there  was  none  so  poor  as  to 
do  him  reverence.  He  once  had  physicians  who  would 
ride  through  storm  and  burning  heat  to  reach  him  and 
relieve  him.  He  passed  from  that  to  thirst,  and  thirst ; 
where  no  one,  not  even  Lazarus,  would  bring  him  one 
drop  of  water.     He  feasted  sum2:)tuously  every  day. 


DIVES    AND    LAZAEUS.  391 

Land,  air  and  seas  ;  fowl,  fisb,  tame  and  wild  beasts  ; 
gardens  and  fields  ;  all  ministered  to  his  appetite. 
India  and  Africa,  ships  and  camels  ;  all  labored  to  lay 
on  his  table  whatever  was  beautiful  to  the  eye,  de- 
licious to  the  taste,  oi*  agreeable  in  perfume.  But  he 
died  ;  and  that  was  the  end  of  feasting.  He  lifted  up 
his  eyes  to  see  what  kind  of  an  exchange  he  had  made. 
He  was  thirsty.  Where  were  the  wines  of  Helbon 
and  Lebanon  ?  If  he  called  for  them,  there  was  none 
to  answer.  No,  not  one  poor  drop  of  water  to  cool  a 
parched  tongue  !  This  was  an  awful  exchange  of  con- 
ditions. 

He  had  riches.  Now  he  owns  nothing  but  his 
soul,  with  its  memory  of  the  past,  its  consciousness 
of  guilt,  and  its  prospect  of  misery  ! 

He  had  honor.  Now  he  is  an  outcast.  He  had, 
but  he  has  not ;  he  has  brought  with  him  nothing  but 
his  selfishness  ;  and  even  the  lost  despise  that. 

To  sum  up  his  past  history,  he  had  the  fulness  of 
worldly  enjoyment.  He  had  reached  the  point  to 
which  so  many  are  anxiously  looking.  But  he  reached 
it,  only  to  plunge  the  deeper  from  it.  "  In  hell  he 
lifted  up  his  eyes,  being  in  torments  ;  and  seeth  Abra- 
ham afar  off,  and  Lazarus  in  his  bosom.  And  he  cried 
and  said  :  father  Abraham,  have  mercy  on  me,  and 
send  Lazarus,  that  he  may  dip  the  tij)  of  his  finger  in 
water,  and  cool  my  tongue  ;  for  I  am  tormented  in  tliis 
flame."  The  word  Christ  here  employs  is  one  express- 
ing the  tortm-e  of  the  rack.  See  the  elements  of  his 
misery  then,  in  the  exchange  of  all  the  good  he  once 
possessed  for  the  opposite  misery.  Tliere  was  an  entire 
loss  of  every  form  of  good  in  which  he  had  delighted. 
He  once  thought  a  man  must  be  miserable  without 


S92  LECTURE   XXV. 

them.  And  he  judged  right,  on  die  condition  ;  that 
the  man  chose  to  make  them  essential  to  his  happiness  ; 
for  that  is  altogether  in  the  imagination  first,  and  then 
in  the  will.  He  had  chosen  them  as  his  chief  good  ; 
and  so  tliej  had  become  indispensable  to  his  happiness. 
But  now  they  are  all  removed.  Tliat  is  poverty,  real 
poverty  ;  eternal,  irremediable  poverty  !  "  Ye  have 
taken  away  my  gods,  and  what  have  I  left !  "  All  his 
senses  had  been  avenues  of  delight.  !N^ow  there  is  not 
an  agreeable  object  for  one  of  them.  In  place  of  all 
Ihis  is  one  incessant  scorching  heat  and  thirst. 

Look  at  the  picture,  fellow-men.  Deny  it,  if  you 
think  that  best ;  or,  if  that  is  too  bold,  turn  away  from 
the  sight.  But  there  it  is.  Christ  lifts  the  curtain 
from  one  sj^ot  in  that  future  world.  If  you  desire  to 
understand  your  prospects  and  your  present  duty,  you 
may.  And  all  I  can  do  for  you  is,  to  stand  and  liold 
the  curtain  up.  I  do  not  make  the  scene,  nor  invent 
the  description.  My  work  is,  to  help  you  contem- 
plate it. 

Now  there  is  a  reverse.  Lazarus  also  died,  and 
made  a  great  exchange.  He  was  here  without  a  house. 
By  day  he  lay  at  the  gate  of  the  rich  man's  house  ;  and 
by  night,  probably,  his  couch  was  not  much  more 
sumptuous  than  that  of  the  friendly  creatures  that 
licked  his  sores.  But  now  he  dwells  in  a  palace,  a 
heavenly  palace  ;  and  as  if  among  the  most  honored 
of  Abraham's  children,  sits  next  to  him  at  the  feast, 
and  reclines,  according  to  the  Oriental  custom,  so  as  to 
rest  his  head  on  Abraham's  breast. 

His  raiment  on  earth  was  not  j)urple,  nor  fine  linen ; 
but  rags  and  patches,  and  untended  ulcers.  These  he 
left  on  earth  when  he  heard  the  summons  to  come 


DIVES   AJSD   LAZAKU8.  393 

home  ;  he  "v^ent  there,  and  took  on  him  robes  of  light ; 
garments  of  beauty  and  immortanty. 

He  was  a  solitary  man  on  earth.  Flatterers  were 
not  drawn  around  him.  He  could  give  no  returns  for 
favors,  nor  entertain  those  who  desired  intellectual  en- 
joyment. Most  of  his  hours  were  lonely.  But  now  he 
is  in  the  midst  of  an  immense  family ;  welcomed  as 
worthy  and  congenial ;  respected,  loved  by  the  bright- 
est, best,  and  happiest  of  God's  rational  creatures. 
That  was  an  exchange  indeed. 

Here  he  had  no  servants  to  attend  him.  There  the 
angels  of  God  are  gladly  ministering  to  him  for  Jesus' 
sake.  And  he  who  could  command  the  service  of  no 
physician  here,  there  has  the  Lord  himself  to  heal  his 
wounds,  his  sorrows  and  his  sins.  Here  he  fed  on 
scraps  that  remained  after  master  and  servants  had 
satisfied  themselves.  Tliere  he  partakes  of  the  richest 
viands  of  heaven.  Here  he  was  despised  ;  there  he  is 
loved  and  honored.  Here  he  had  nothing ;  there  he 
is  possessor  of  heaven's  riches.  Here  he  had  no  enjoy- 
ment of  an  earthly  kind  ;  there  the  joys  of  heaven  are 
his  eternal  inheritance.  They  spring  from  the  infinite 
being,  perfections,  resources  and  goodness  of  the  eter- 
nal God,  and  cannot  fail.  This  was  the  exchange  se- 
cured in  the  case  of  one  that  believed  in  God  here  on 
earth.  But  there  is  more  than  exchange ;  there  is  also 
accumulation. 

2.  Death  produces  an  accumulation  of  good  or  evil. 
In  this  world  is  the  mixture  of  good  and  evil.  There, 
is  no  mixture ;  but  one  or  the  other  reigns  supreme. 
"We  have  seen  a  part  of  the  process  ;  that  he  who  is  to 
be  miserable  after  death  must  lay  aside  whatever  did 
17* 


394  LECTURE   XXV. 

minister  to  his  happiness  or  comfort  here,  and  the  othei 
lay  asi\le  all  his  discomfort.  But  the  Saviour  shows 
US  more  ;  there  is  in  each  case  an  accumulation  of  the 
evils  the  one  has  shunned,  and  of  the  good  the  other 
has  sought. 

One  sought  a  separation  from  the  godly  and  a  union 
with  the  ungodly.  And  now  it  comes  to  him  in  its 
completeness.  He  sees  Abraham  afar  off,  and  Lazarus 
in  his  bosom,  with  an  impassable  gulf  between  them. 
And  now  the  very  brethren  whose  society  was  so  dear 
to  him  on  earth,  he  dreads  to  have  come  to  join  him 
where  he  is.  But  Lazarus  sought  a  spiritual  union  with 
God  and  the  good  while  on  earth.  And  now  he  enjoys 
it  to  the  full.  Being  in  Abraham's  bosom,  means  the 
tranquil  enjoyment  of  his  society  and  friendship,  as 
Jesus  is  said  to  be  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father. 

The  rich  man  sought  bodily  comfort.  And  now 
this  appetite  is  increased,  and  an  intensity  is  given  to 
that  form  of  desire  which,  when  ungratified,  is  like 
liames  of  fire  and  the  most  scorching  thirst.  But 
Lazarus  sought  spiritual  joy,  and  his  cup  is  now  full 
of  it. 

The  rich  man  dreaded  exposure  to  suffering ;  and 
now  the  floodgates  are  opened  upon  him  There  is  no 
escape.  The  seal  of  eternity  is  on  every  form  of  evil 
he  is  enduring,  and  gives  him  up  a  prey  to  despair. 
But  Lazarus  sought  mainly  an  assurance  against  sin. 
And  now  the  assurance  is  complete  ;  and  the  last  pain- 
ful anxiety  is  banished  from  his  soul  for  ever  ! 

Let  us  now  occupy  a  few  moments  in  looking  rever- 
ently at. 


DIVES    AND   LAZAKUS.  395 

n.  The  reasons  fok  this  arkangement,  so  fab  as 
God  may  have  made  tiikm  known  to  us. 

We  have  two  inquiries  to  make  in  col templating 
the  scene  thus  brought  before  us.     The  first  is  : 

1.  Why  at  the  commencement  is  the  path  of  death 
eternal  strewed  with  flowers^  and  that  of  life  jplamted 
with  thorns  ?  I  do  not  now  inquire  why  there  are  two 
paths  leading  respectively  to  life  and  death.  That 
takes  hold  on  deeper  principles  than  we  should  now 
attempt  to  examine.  But  I  would  simply  suggest  prin- 
ciples which  are  true  and  righteous  in  reference  to 
beings  that  have  never  sinned  ;  much  more  in  the  case 
of  the  fallen. 

Goodness  of  heart  and  obedience  in  action  are  the 
highest  good  to  which  creatures  can  attain.  But  char- 
acter is  not  a  thing  created  ;  it  is  voluntary  j)i'inciple^ 
tried  and  confirmed  by  resistance  to  evil.  Ask  your- 
self, then,  what  is  the  test  of  principle  but  present  pain 
connected  with  duty,  and  present  gratification  con- 
nected with  doing  wrong  ?  Abraham  says  to  the  ricli 
man :  "  Thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy  good  things ; 
and  likewise  Lazarus,  evil."  The  rich  man  chose  the 
good  of  this  life  as  his  portion.  He  turned  away  from 
the  claims  of  religion,  because  they  came  with  self- 
abasing  and  self-denying,  at  the  very  outset.  He  there- 
fore selected  that  form  of  character  which  places  self- 
indulgence  before  duty  ;  and  shuns  the  right,  because 
it  has  a  thorny  portal  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey. 
Probation  then  requires  that  we  shall  choose  between 
the  right,  and  the  agreeable  ;  the  wrong,  and  the  dis- 
agreeable. Wealth  is  a  defence  against  many  incon- 
veniences, and  gratifies  many  of  our  natural  desires ; 
pleasure  is  an  immediate  gratification  of  our  senses  or 


396  LECTUKE   XXV. 

tastes.  Human  esteem  is  designed  to  satisfy  a  particu* 
lar  want  of  our  nature  ;  so  that  worldly  persons  have  a 
real  good.  There  are  unquestionably  flowers  in  the 
opening  of  their  path.  And  they  are  not  deceived  in 
supposing  that  the  path  to  heaven  goes  by  the  narrow 
gate,  the  narrow  way,  and  the  cross.  Probation,  from 
its  very  nature,  must  require  of  us  the  sacrifice  of  a 
pleasure  for  a  duty ;  a  present  for  a  future,  a  temporary 
for  an  eternal  good.  It  must  furnish  us  opportunity  to 
be  good  in  heart,  and  to  act  it  out  under  temptations  to 
the  contrary  ;  or,  to  be  neglectful  of  our  duty,  with  in- 
ducements to  be  neglectful  of  it.  That  answers  the 
inquiry, — why,  at  their  commencement  here  the  path 
of  life  is  planted  with  thorns,  and  the  path  of  death, 
with  flowers  ? 

The  other  inquiry  suggested  is  : 

2.  Why  the  j^uT suit  of  present  enjoyment  must  lead 
to  such  tremendous  consequences  ?  I  ask  this  question 
because  there  is  so  great  an  amount  of  wicked  doubt- 
ing ;  both,  whether  it  is  so,  and  whether  God  is  not  to 
be  blamed  if  it  is  so.  You  say  it  is  tremendous  to  have 
such  retribution  possible.  It  is  ;  but  not  the  less  true. 
It  is  involved  in  the  very  grandeur  of  that  nature  God 
has  given  us.  But  you  see  these  principles  pervading 
the  human  constitution  and  human  life.  All  permanent 
enjoyment  depends  on  goodness  ;  and  all  goodness  re- 
quires the  sacrifice  of  temporary  enjoyment.  And 
again,  all  enjoyment  must  be  temporary  that  is  not 
founded  on  goodness.  And  all  sin  consists  in  making 
duty  yield  to  present  gratification.  And  the  very 
nature  of  sin  is  to  terminate  in  perfect  misery.  You 
can  see  it  clearly  even  in  this  life  in  regard  to  some 
sins.     But  it  is  equally  true  of  all.     You  may  analyze 


DIVES    AND    LAZARUS.  397 

the  sin  of  di-unkenness,  and  you  will  find  it  involving 
all  these  principles.  But  the  sin  of  unbelief,  world- 
liness,  rejecting  or  neglecting  the  Gospel,  involves  pre- 
cisely the  same  moral  elements.  He  drinks  what  pleases 
his  taste,  regardless  of  his  duty.  All  worldly  people  do 
the  same  in  other  forms.  He  ultimately  loses  that 
gratification,  with  every  other  good.  He  begins  his 
hell  here,  and  cries  out — "  I  thirst,  I  thirst ;  O  for  one 
drop  of  water  to  cool  my  tongue,  for  I  am  tormented 
in  this  flame."  But  he  only  begins  it  a  little  earlier 
than  you.  Tour  neglect  of  Christ  is  the  same  in  its 
nature,  and  involves  the  same  eternal  consequences. 

Tlien,  there  is  prevalent  a  grossly  false  estimate  of 
death.  Men  look  at  it  as  an  accident,  an  intruder,  an 
inconvenient  mar-plot.  IS'o,  it  is  one  of  life's  greatest 
realities  ;  about  which  there  should  be  the  most  earnest 
thought,  and  the  most  careful  preparation.  We  think 
much  of  growing  to  manhood  when  we  are  young  ;  of 
entering  into  business  ;  of  being  married  ;  of  going  to 
a  distant  country.  But  greater  than  all  of  them  is 
dying  ;  whether  prepared  or  unprepared.  If  prepared, 
we  exchange  all  evil  for  good,  and  accumulate  all  good 
to  perfection.  If  unprepared,  death  is  an  awaking  from 
a  delusive  dream.  It  is  a  laying  aside  the  stage  dress 
of  an  actor,  and  coming  to  the  realities  of  life.  You 
may  play  the  king  here,  and  leave  your  royal  robes 
when  death  comes  to  strip  you,  and  be  found  the 
beggar  there.  You  may  be  a  child  of  Abraham,  and 
yet  sink  to  that  abyss.  "  Son,"  he  said.  "What  a  dread- 
ful title  it  was  !  reminding  him  of  what  he  ought  to 
have  been,  what  privileges  he  had  enjoyed  and  despised, 
what  opportunities  he  had  lost  for  ever.    You  may  pasg 


398  LECTURE    XXV. 

from  all  life's  banquet,  to  want  for  ever  so  nmcli  as  one 
poor  drop  of  water. 

Then,  unbelief  is  the  great  sin.  God  offers  to  de- 
liver men  from  sin  and  its  consequences  ;  not,  however, 
against  their  will,  nor  without  it.  But  men  cling  to 
sin.  They  are  so  in  love  with  present  ease  and  enjoy- 
ment that  they  will  not  seriously  look  at  the  future  ;  or, 
if  they  must,  they  contrive  to  make  retribution  seem 
unreal  or  unreasonable.  This  man  had  contrived  to 
shut  out  from  his  mind  the  belief  in  the  stern  reality 
of  perdition.  He  was  not  a  spendthrift,  nor  luxurious, 
nor  unkind,  but  ungodly.  He  took  his  good  here. 
And  he  had  evidently  persuaded  himself  that  if  there 
was  such  a  termination  to  a  life  of  worldliness,  it  was 
not  sufficiently  demonstrated.  So,  when  he  came  to 
feel  the  kindlings  of  thoee  quenchless  fires,  he  thought, 
I  surely  never  would  have  come  here  if  I  had  believed 
it  was  real.  Moses'  words  were  proclaimed  to  me  ;  but 
I  did  not  hear  and  repent.  So  he  concluded  that  if 
Lazarus  were  sent  to  his  unbelieving  brothers,  they 
would  believe  him,  and  rej^ent.  Just  as  if  there  had 
not  been  witnesses  competent  and  sufficient ;  just  as  if 
there  were  not  now  ;  and  witnesses  from  the  invisible 
world,  of  whom  Christ  is  the  chief,  the  Amen,  the  faith- 
ful and  true  witness  ;  just  as  if  a  Lazarus  had  not  arisen 
from  the  dead,  without  producing  that  effect.  No,  you 
have  Moses  and  the  prophets,  Jesus  and  the  apostles. 
If  you  do  not  believe  them,  your  case  is  hopeless,  your 
prospects  are  fearful. 

The  choice  of  life  or  death  eternal  is  now  to  he  made 
a/new.      "  Behold,  I  set   before  you  life  and  death." 


DIVES    AND    LAZAItUS.  399 

Tliere  is  the  rich  man's  hell,  and  Lazaras's  heaven. 
Choose  ye,  this  day,  which  shall  be  yours.  You  have 
chosen  present  gratification  thus  far ;  that  was  the 
choice  Dives  made.  You  have  rejected  a  crucified 
Saviour  and  his  self-denying  service.  If  you  insist  still 
that  that  is  the  way  to  eternal  life,  I  must  leave  you 
with  God  and  his  word.  But  even  for  you,  and  for  all 
another  opportunity  is  given  to  turn  from  the  path  of 
perdition,  and  enter  on  the  way  of  life.  They  that  will 
"  be  blessed  with  faithful  Abraham,"  must  believe  as 
he  did. 


LECTUEE  XXVI. 

THE  DEAG-NET ;  OR,  THE  FINAL  DI8CKIMINATI0N. 

Matt.  xiii.  47-50. — "  Again,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  nev, 
that  was  cast  into  the  sea,  and  gathered  of  every  kind :  which,  when  l» 
was  full,  they  drew  to  shore,  and  sat  down,  and  gathered  the  good  into 
vessels,  but  cast  the  bad  away.  So  shall  it  be  at  the  end  of  the  world : 
the  angels  shall  come  forth,  and  sever  the  wicked  from  among  the  just, 
and  shall  cast  them  into  the  furnace  of  fire :  there  shall  be  wailing  and 
gnashing  of  teeth." 

We  are  now  entering  on  the  most  solemn  aspect  of 
truth  presented  by  these  parables  of  the  Great  Preacher. 
Here  he  shows  us,  under  the  emblem  of  fishing  with 
a  drag-net,  in  the  hauling,  and  the  subsequent  culling, 
and  severing  the  bad  from  the  good,  one  great  aspect 
of  the  Gospel.  Tlie  fishermen  draw,  at  an  entire  un- 
certainty, as  to  the  kinds  of  fish  they  shall  enclose. 
Tlie  bad  fish  are  such  as  are  unfit  for  the  fisherman's 
use.  Among  the  Jews,  it  was  deteiTnined  by  divine 
law,  concerning  fishes,  that  "  all  that  have  not  fins  and 
scales,  are  an  abomination."  So  the  Gospel  is  em- 
ployed with  great  inequality,  as  well  as  uncertainty  of 
results.  Masses  of  men  are  reached  by  it ;  all  are  af- 
fected by  it ;  some  of  them  dragged  to  the  very  thresh- 
old of  heaven,  and  yet  not  made  by  it  actually  "  fit  for 


THE   DKAG-NET.  401 

the  Master's  use."  And,  in  the  day  of  culling  and 
separation,  they  will  be  cast  away.  Many  are  almost 
converted,  but  not  quite.  Many  are  even  brought  into 
the  Church,  who  never  are  regenerated,  and  will  not  be 
saved.  But  the  fisherman  has  two  seasons  ;  first,  that 
of  hauling  ;  then,  that  of  separating. 

I  select,  as  the  culminating  point  of  this  parable,  its 
exhibition  of  the 

Epoch  of  discrimination  and  separation  in  the 
Mngdo7)i  of  God.  Here  all  is  prophetic,  stretching  its 
vision  into  the  eternal  state,  and  introducing  us  to  the 
vast  domain  of  the  unseen  and  inexperienced  future. 
Either  God  has  met  and  gratified  that  intense  desire  in 
man,  to  know  the  future,  or,  he  has  not.  Either  he  has 
brought  by  anticipation,  the  light  of  the  ultimate  conse- 
quences of  our  actions  to  shine  upon,  and  affect  our 
present  course  of  life,  or,  he  has  not.  If  he  has,  we 
must  hear  and  believe,  and  regulate  our  conduct  by  it. 
We  shall  expect  to  see  lights  beaming  from  every  quar- 
ter of  the  heavens  to  confirm  what  our  Creator  has  said, 
if  he  has  spoken.  But  every  sane  man  must  acknow- 
ledge his  own  inability  to  anticipate  his  destiny  with 
confidence,  unless  God  has  directly  taught  us.  He  has 
taught  us.  And  the  Scriptures  reveal  the  certainty  of 
a  day  of  discrimination,  or  judgment ;  the  grounds  of 
that  discrimination,  and  the  finality  of  it. 

This  parable  then  shows  ; 

I.  The  certainty  of  a  day  of  final  judgment. 

It  is  to  be  a  new  dispensation.  The  present  is  char- 
acterized by  indiscriminate  efforts  to  draw  men  into  the 
kingdom  of  God,  Tliat  will  be  characterized  by  dis- 
criminating, separating,  and  treating  in  directly  oppo- 


402  LECTURE    XXVI. 

site  ways,  the  good  and  the  bad.  Here,  the  Gospel  is 
preached  alike  to  alL  Here,  the  bad  as  well  as  the 
good,  are  brought  into  the  Church.  But  this  parable 
brings  to  our  view  the  closing  of  the  world's  history. 
In  this  world  a  time  is  given  for  the  tares  to  be  sown 
with  the  wheat.  They  have  time  too  to  grow,  uniro- 
lested.  But,  at  length,  a  day  of  discrimination  and 
separation  comes.  Then  they  are  distinguished  by 
competent  judges  ;  separated  from  the  wheat,  and  de- 
stroyed ;  while  the  wheat  is  gathered  into  the  granary. 
In  this  life  a  time  is  given  for  the  fisherman  to  draw 
his  net  through  the  dark  waters  ;  sweej)ing  in  uncer- 
tainty, and  bringing  many  fish  to  land,  that  are  to  be 
of  no  value  to  him. 

This,  then,  is  the  final  judgment. 

1.  We  find  it  taught  throughout  the  Scriptures. 
Jude  declares  that  this  truth  was  proclaimed  by 
"  Enoch,  the  seventh  from  Adam."  And  as  Adam 
lived  about  three  hundred  years  after  Enoch's  birth,  we 
may  suppose  that  Enoch  preached  this  docti-ine  in  the 
hearing  of  the  whole  of  the  antediluvian  world,  until 
within  less  than  a  century  of  !Noali's  birth.  With  the 
immense  longevity  of  that  period  it  required  but  two 
preachers  to  I'each  the  entire  people  of  the  world,  be- 
tween the  Creation  and  the  Deluge.  But  Jude  informs 
us  of  the  subject  of  his  preaching,  which  was  this  : 
"  Behold  the  Lord  cometli  with  ten  thousand  of  his 
saints  (or  angels),  to  execute  judgment  upon  all  that 
are  ungodly."  There  the  process  of  judging  and  dis- 
criminating are  passed  by,  and  only  that  of  destruction 
is  presented.  But  the  definiteness  of  the  period  is 
shown  in  the  term  so  constantly  employed  :  "The  com- 
ing of  the  Lord."     Sometimes  we   find  passages  de- 


THE   DKAG-NET.  403 

scribing  only  tlie  process  of  discrimination  between 
saints  and  sinners  ;  sometimes  passages  combining  tliese 
two  ;  and  others  describing  tlie  process  of  destruction. 
To  select  specimens  of  these.  In  Daniel  it  is  said, 
(xii.  2,)  "  Many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the 
earth,  shall  awake,  some  to  evei'lasting  life,  and  some 
to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt."  Here  are  dis- 
crimination, separation,  destruction,  and  salvation,  all 
presented.  Discrimination  of  the  two  classes  is  pre- 
sented in  such  passages  as  this  :  ''  We  must  all  appear 
before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ ;  that  every  man 
may  receive  the  things  done  in  his  body,  according  to 
that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad."  Separa- 
tion of  the  two  is  thus  affirmed :  "  Let  both  (the  wheat 
and  tares)  grow  together  until  the  harvest ;  and  in  the 
time  of  harvest  I  will  say  to  the  reapers  :  G-ather  ye  to- 
gether first  the  tares  and  bind  them  in  bundles  to  burn 
them  ;  but  gather  the  wheat  into  my  barn.  When  the 
Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all  the  holy 
angels  with  him,  theii  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
his  glory  ;  and  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations, 
and  he  shall  separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a  shep- 
herd dividetli  the  sheep  from  the  goats."  Salvation  and 
destruction  consequent  upon  this  discrimination  and 
separation  are  described  in  this  same  passage,  as  it 
closes  :  "  And  these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  pun- 
ishment, and  the  righteous  into  life  eternal."  It  is  also 
most  solemnly  presented  in  that  passage :  "  The  Lord 
Jesus  shall  be  revealed  from  heaven  with  his  mighty 
angels,  in  flaming  fire,  taking  vengeance  on  them  that 
know  not  God,  and  that  obey  net  the  Gospel ;  who  shall 
be  punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord,  and  the  glory  of  his  jDower." 


404  LECTUKE   XXVI. 

Then  to  confirm  our  faith  in  this  revelation,  let  us 
look  in  another  direction ;  to 

2.  The  whole  analogy  of  human  life.  The  doctrine 
of  final  judgment,  including  ultimate  discrimination, 
separation,  salvation,  and  destruction,  is  not  a  strange 
principle,  found  only  in  a  few  texts  of  the  Bible,  and 
the  creeds  of  morose  men.  It  is  a  doctrine  of  God, 
written  on  the  whole  constitution  of  man  and  society. 
"We  find  it  in  the  actions  of  man  towards  man  every 
day.  But  in  the  dealings  of  God  we  find  it  carried  out 
on  the  broad  scale  of  national  conduct  and  national 
destiny. 

To  look  to  this  process  of  judgment  carried  on  by 
man,  let  us  enter  our  criminal  courts.  Here  is  a  rigid 
performance  of  the  whole  process ;  and  every  noble 
instinct  of  man,  his  higher  sentiments,  his  reason,  all 
call  on  him  to  carry  the  process  through  most  rigid- 
ly. Then  go  to  the  school-house ;  the  class  is  called  to 
judgment.  The  law  is ;  the  lesson  must  be  known. 
Discrimination  takes  place  between  those  who  have 
obeyed,  and  those  who  have  disobeyed  that  law.  Then 
a  separation,  of  some  kind,  takes  place.  Then  come,  in 
some  form,  rewards  and  punishments.  Pass  to  social 
life.  A  number  of  strangers  are  introduced  to  you  or 
your  family,  in  the  course  of  the  year.  You  and  your 
family  sit  in  judgment ;  you  discriminate,  separate, 
honor,  or  reject  every  one  so  tried.  Go  to  the  meclian- 
ic's  shop,  and  you  will  see  it  carried  out ;  every  apjDren- 
tice,  every  workman  passes  through  a  process  of  judg- 
ment. Apply  to  the  school  committee  for  a  teacher's 
place.  Ask  for  employment  as  a  servant.  Go  to  the 
medical  college  for  a  degree ;  to  the  court  for  an  attor- 
ney's license  ;  and  you  will  find  every  where  men  go 


TUE    DRAG-NET.  405 

through  some  process  of  judgment.  Ask  the  ship- 
owner if  he  puts  any  man  that  falls  into  his  hand,  in 
command  of  his  ships ;  i^^"  he  has  not  tried  men,  and 
found  them  wanting ;  and  said :  "  Depart,  so  far  as  I 
am  concerned,  to  disgrace  and  poverty.  I  cannot  com- 
mit these  important  interests  to  your  care."  Yes,  and 
it  is  wonderful  to  observe  how  perfectly  inwrought 
that  j)i'inciple  is  in  the  human  constitution.  Every 
human  being  has  judged  some  other  person,  and  assigned 
to  him  a  kind  of  heaven  or  hell.  I  mean  not,  of  course, 
to  say  that  the  process  is  either  carried  on  generally 
with  any  formality,  or  that  there  is  a  rigid  decision  in 
each  case.  That  depends  upon  mental  habits ;  and  our 
conscious  ignorance  of  each  other's  motives,  holds  om- 
decisions  somewhat  in  check.  But  you  take  some  great 
historical  character,  and  see  how  intensely  men  will 
carry  on  the  process  of  judgment,  until  they  can  form 
some  definite  opinion.  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  died  more 
than  two  centuries  ago.  Men  are  sitting  in  judgment 
on  her  character  to-day ;  not  willing  to  rest,  until  she 
has  her  place  assigned  her  among  the  good  or  the  bad. 
Oliver  Cromwell,  and  William  Penn  are  going  through 
the  same  ordeal.  How  is  it  then  men  can  say  :  the 
doctrine  of  final  judgment  is  a  human  invention  ? 
"Which  part  is  a  human  invention  ;  tlie  process  of  dis- 
crimination, that  of  separation,  or  that  of  retribution? 
Surely  neither ;  for  they  are  all  interwoven  with  the 
structure  of  the  human  soul,  and  the  framework  of 
society.  And  God  is  carrying  on  the  same  in  the  great 
processes  of  his  government  toward  nations.  I  cannot 
now  follow  it  out ;  but  simply  suggest  to  any  that  de- 
sire to  do  it,  to  ascertain  concerning  every  people, 
since  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel  among  the  nations, 


406  LECTURE   XXVI. 

wliat  treatment  tlie  Gospel  has  received  at  their  hands ; 
and  then,  how  God  has  treated  them.  Let  him  begin 
with  the  Jews,  and  end  with  the  Spanards  or  Ital- 
ians. There  is  still  another  confirmation  of  this  prin- 
ciple. 

3.  It  belongs  to  every  Jcnown  religion  in  some  fornn,^ 
and  to  some  extent.  I  know  bnt  one  that  denies  it,  and 
one  that  evades  it ;  and  both  of  those  are  enfeebled 
perversions  of  Christianity.  All  other  religions,  how- 
ever false  on  other  points,  in  some  form,  present  two 
classes  of  men  in  the  future,  and  assign  to  them  two 
different  and  opposite  conditions. 

But  the  point  of  inquiry  next  in  importance  to  that 
of  certainty,  is  this  ; 

II.  "What  are  the  grothstds  of  this  discrimination  ? 

Where  will  the  lines  be  drawn,  and  by  what  stand- 
ard will  men  be  tried  ?  Who  are  represented  by  the 
bad  fishes,  and  who  by  the  good  ?  I  will  bring  one 
declaration  from  the  lips  of  our  Saviour,  and  show  how 
the  various  statements  of  Scripture  agree  with  that, 
"  He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized,  shall  be  saved,  and 
he  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned."  Mankind  have 
lived  under  two  distinct  revelations,  that  of  law,  and 
that  of  grace. 

1,  Those  who  have  had  only  the  law  will^  he  judged 
hy  the  absolute  jprinciples  of  law.  "  As  many  as  have 
sinned  without  law  (the  written  law)  shall  also  perish 
without  law  ;  and  as  manj  as  have  sinned  in  the  law, 
shall  be  judged  by  the  law."  Speaking,  in  the  same 
connection,  of  the  ^^eoples  who  lived  outside  of  the  cir- 
cle of  a  written  revelation,  Paul  says  ;  they  "  show  the 
work  of  the  law  (or,  what  the  law  requires)  written  in 


TIIE   DKAG-NET.  407 

tlieir  hearts  ;  their  conscience  also  bearing  witness,  and 
their  thoughts  the  meanwhile  (or,  alternately)  accusing 
or  excusing."  The  great  inquiry  will  be  for  them  ;  have 
they  known,  loved,  and  obeyed  God  according  to  the 
light  they  had  ? 

2.  Bid^  to  those  who  had  the  Gospel^  the  Gospel  icill 
he  the  text.  And  it  was  of  such  alone  that  the  Saviour 
was  speaking  in  this  parable  ;  for,  the  net  is  that  king- 
dom of  heaven,  which  he  brought  on  earth  ;  the  system 
of  redemption.  "  He  that  believeth,  and  is  baptized 
(or  confesseth  me),  shall  be  saved."  But  why  are  not 
we  to  be  tried  by  law  ?  Because  that  trial  has  been 
had  already.  "  He  that  believeth  not,  is  condemned 
already."  It  is  already  settled  that  no  man  can  be 
saved  by  the  deeds  of  law  ;  "  for  all  have  sinned,  and 
come  short  of  the  gloiy  of  God."  But,  it  is  asked.  Are 
we  not  to  be  tried  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body  ?  "We 
are.  But  the  point  which  those  deeds  will  go  to  es- 
tablish, is  this;  did  we  receive  or  reject  an  oflPered  Sa- 
viour and  salvation  ?  For  instance,  Paul  was  a  perse- 
cutor ;  and  his  horrid  deeds  in  Jerusalem  could  be 
brought  to  condemn  him.  But  Paul  will  not  be  found 
among  the  castaways,  although  absolute  law  would 
condemn  him.  He  believed  in  Christ ;  he  accepted 
forgiveness.  He  welcomed  Christ  here  as  a  Saviour, 
that  he  might  not  meet  him  hereafter  as  a  condemning 
judge.  The  law  will  be  the  standard  in  that  day,  to 
all  who  here  refuse  to  be  delivered  from  its  curse. 
Every  impenitent  person  says,  every  time  the  Gosj)el 
is  presented  to  him  :  "  No,  I  refuse  to  accept  deliver- 
ance from  the  law,  I  choose  to  be  tried  by  it."  And  he 
shall  be  tried  by  it.  And  his  actions  and  motives  will 
form  the  ground  of  his  trial.     But  they  that  are  saved  • 


408  LECTURE   XXVT. 

here  represented  by  the  good  fish,  they  will  be  saved, 
not  by  absolute  law ;  for,  they  all  were  sinners ;  but 
by  grace.  No  dream  is  more  idle  than  that  of  some 
who  imagine  that  they  shall  be  among  the  blessed  in 
that  day,  because  they  have  never  sinned.  "  By  the 
deeds  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified." 

Tlie  ultimate  division  of  the  human  race  into  two 
classes  can  never  be  the  issue  of  a  mere  balancing  of 
merits.  Tried  by  an  absolute  standard  of  perfection 
from  the  beginning  of  our  moral  existence,  we  must 
all  be  in  one  class ;  we  are  sinners,  transgressors  of 
law.  Some  know  their  sins,  and  are  self-condemned  ; 
others  are  self-complacent,  and  so  prove  themselves 
filled  with  the  pollution  of  pride.  Tlie  real  inquest  of 
the  judgment  is  on  this  point :  has  the  remedy  for  sin 
been  accepted  ?  The  reason  why  faith  in  Christ  is  de- 
clared by  him  to  be  the  turning-point,  is  simply  because 
that  includes  two  elements ;  the  soul  in  its  volition 
separating  itself  from  sin  so  far  as  a  creature  can  ;  thus 
proving  its  sincerity ;  and,  the  soul  receiving  Christ, 
and  entering  into  a  vital  union  with  him,  in  order  to 
partake  of  his  life. 

And  you  can  see  in  Christ's  description  of  the  final 
judgment,  in  the  25th  chapter  of  Matthew,  how  the  dis- 
criminating line  will  be  drawn.  He  there  says  nothing 
about  the  number  or  kind  of  sins  any  one  may  have 
committed.  Mark  that,  ye  that  contrast  yourselves 
with  great  sinners,  and  think  ye  shall  be  saved  by  that 
contrast,  Chi-ist  draws  no  such  line.  Mark  another 
thing.  He  brings  up  no  eminent  deeds  of  human  good- 
ness to  justify  his  approbation  of  the  saved.  When  he 
says  to  those  on  his  left  hand :  "  Depart,  ye  cursed,'' 
it  is  all  based  on  simple  negatives.     It  is  not  what  they 


THE   DKAG-NET.  409 

did  do,  but  what  they  did  not  do.  And  all  that  they 
did  not  do,  was,  they  did  not  care  enough  for  him  to 
stand  by  him,  or  his  canse,  or  his  people,  when  self- 
interest  could  not  be  promoted  by  it.  Wliy  did  they 
not  feed  him  when  hungry,  or  go  to  him  in  prison  ? 
Because  they  did  not  love  him  as  their  Saviour.  They 
were  satisfied  with  their  sins  ;  they  feared  not  the  curse 
of  the  law,  and  they  had  no  heart-faith  ;  so,  no  love  to- 
ward Christ.  These  are  the  bad  fishes.  Tlien,  when 
he  describes  the  ground  of  the  sentence,  "  Come,  ye 
blessed,  inherit  the  kingdom,"  what  is  it  ?  does  he  speak 
of  cathedrals  built ;  vast  intellectual  labors ;  martyr- 
doms ?  No  ;  but  the  simplest,  every-day  tests  of  at- 
tachment to  the  Saviour. 

If  any  inquire  then  :  how  the  law  is  to  be  vindi- 
cated by  making  that  the  test  in  the  great  day  of  trial ; 
there  is  a  plain  reply.  Tliis  is  the  only  way  to  save  the 
law  and  man  too.  If  a  human  being  is  saved  on  any 
other  ground,  the  law  is  sacrificed  ;  because  none  have 
obeyed  it.  If  rej)entauce  were  not  a  condition,  then 
the  enemies  of  the  law  would  be  saved.  If  faith  were 
not,  then  Christ's  work  of  magnifying  the  law  is  re- 
jected ;  and  so  the  law  is  dishonored.' 

The  parable  conveys  one  other  principle  ; 

III.  This  sepakation  will  be  complete  and  final. 

"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  net  which 
was  cast  into  the  sea,  and  gathered  of  every  kind ;  which, 
when  it  was  full,  they  drew  to  shore."  "  Wlien  it  was 
full."  That  is  significant.  With  the  fisherman  that  is 
the  period  for  ceasing  to  drag,  and  to  begin  to  cull,  or 
to  sepai-ate.  "  They  drew  to  shore,  and  sat  down,  and 
gathered  the  good  into  vessels,  but  cast  the  bad  away." 
18 


4:10  LECTURE    XXVI. 

That  surely  is  the  final  process  of  catching  and  culling 
with  those  fish.  "So  shall  it  be  at  the  end  of  the 
world :  the  angels  shall  come  forth,  and  sever  the 
wicked  from  among  the  just,  and  shall  cast  them  into 
the  furnace  of  fire."  Gathering  and  casting  away,  at 
the  end  of  the  world,  is  the  great  point  of  this  solemn 
parable. 

Then  the  temporary  staging  on  which  redemption 
was  to  be  enacted,  will  be  removed,  that  the  eternal 
^principles  of  absolute  law  may  again  move  on,  uninter- 
rupted, and  unobscured.  "  "We  look  for  new  heavens 
and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness." 
Tliis  world  must  be  destroyed  by  fire,  because  sin  has 
so  thoroughly  penetrated  it,  and  it  has  been  so  long 
employed  in  the  service  of  Satan.  "  Tlie  heavens  and 
the  earth  which  now  are,  are  reserved  unto  fire  against 
the  day  of  judgment  and  perdition  of  ungodly  men." 
The  day  of  the  Lord  is  coming :  "  in  which  the  heavens 
shall  pass  away  with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elements 
shall  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth,  also,  and  the 
works  that  are  therein,  shall  be  burned  up."  That, 
brethren,  is  the  end.  Fire  is  represented  as  the  great 
agent,  because  it  is  so  discriminating,  so  complete,  so 
final  in  its  process.  It  annihilates  nothing ;  but  it 
separates  the  impure  from  the  pure,  however  intimate- 
ly connected.  It  is  one  of  Grod's  miglity  instruments 
and  agents  in  nature.  And  hence  even  angels  are  com- 
pared to  it.  "  He  maketh  his  angels  spirits,  his  min- 
isters, a  flame  of  fire."  Whatever  is  purified  by  the 
blood  and  spirit  and  word  of  Christ,  will  pass  through 
that  fire,  completely  purified.  Whatever  is  out  of  him, 
will  be,  by  it,  separated  from  the  holy  for  ever.  It  is 
Jie  end  of  the  world  ;  not  merely  of  this  physical  struc- 


THE  dkag-ne:t.  411 

tnre  and  astronomical  arrangement,  but  also  of  this 
probationary  state.  Law  will  be  held  back  no  longer 
from  its  execution,  by  the  Gospel.  It  is  the  end  of  the 
world. 

This  parable  contains  both  encouragements  and 
warnings. 

It  encourages  all  who  are  laboring  to  do  good  to  their 
fellow-men.  He  that  believes  in  his  heart  that  our 
Lord  spoke  the  truth  in  this  parable,  is  seriously  af- 
fected at  its  description  of  man's  destiny.  What  a  day 
will  that  be,  when  I  and  my  neighbor  shall  feel  the  hand 
of  some  mighty  angel  either  leading  or  forcing  us  to 
the  presence  of  the  God-man  judge  ;  placing  one  of  us 
on  the  right,  and  the  other  on  his  left  hand  !  Day  of 
discrimination;  day  of  awful  judgment ;  day  of  separa- 
tion ;  day  of  destiny  and  doom  !  Day  of  salvation  and 
damnation  1  ISTo  man,  I  say,  believes  in  his  heart  that 
Jesus  spoke  truly  in  this  and  kindred  parables,  without 
feeling  a  deep  solicitude,  first  for  himself.  And  when 
his  own  fears  are  removed ;  then  he  feels  for  his  fellow- 
man.  ISTot  to  feel  solicitude,  with  such  a  belief,  is  not 
only  unchristian,  but  inhuman.  And  yet  as  soon  as  he 
begins  to  try  to  prepare  others  for  that  day,  he  finds  it 
a  most  discouraging  work.  They  have  no  sympathy 
with  his  solicitude.  Tliat  is  chilling.  They  either  re- 
sist, or  give  a  heartless  assent.  Some  Christians  get 
relief  from  the  pain  of  tliis,  by  forgetting  the  day  of  dis- 
crimination, separation,  and  doom.  That  is  wrong. 
And  yet  one  could  be  driven  to  melancholy  who  should 
permanently  fix  his  eye  on  one  unconverted  soul,  and 
anticipate  his  destiny.  Yes,  the  mere  contemplation 
of  any  one  sin,  say  of  murder,  or  fraud,  if  vicAved 
apart  from  every  other  consideration,  would  drive  the 


412  LECTURE   XXVI. 

soul  to  madness.  Kow  we  want  to  find  a  medium ; 
neither  to  be  distracted  and  disordered  by  contem- 
plating the  judgment-day ;  nor  to  be  relieved  by  for- 
getting it ;  which  is  the  ordinary  way.  The  remedy  is 
here  ;  our  work  is  before  us ;  to  continue  casting  the 
net  without  culling ;  to  know  that  it  is  our  privilege  to 
cast  it ;  to  know  that  it  is  the  indispensable  means  of 
getting  the  good  to  shore  ;  to  know  that  it  does  not 
make  the  bad,  bad  ;  to  remember  how  prophets  toiled, 
with  failures ;  how  Christ  and  his  apostles  labored, 
without  visible  results.  Our  commission  is — "  to  every 
creature."  Tliis  tract,  that  Bible,  these  sermons,  that 
religious  instruction  may  be  lost  on  individuals.  But 
we  must  cast  the  net,  and  leave  the  gathering  to 
angels.  This  prayer  may  not  bring  salvation  to  that 
person ;  still  we  must  pray  without  ceasing.  It  is 
enough  for  us  to  know  that  our  blessed  Lord  put  forth 
several  parables,  to  show  that  he  fully  anticipated  the 
failure  of  many  good  efforts ;  and  yet  in  the  end,  he 
shall  be  satisfied.  But  while  this  parable  thus  encour- 
ages faithful  labor,  it  also  appeals  fearfully  and  power- 
fully to  several  classes  ; 

To  the  inhabitants  of  Christian  countries.  The  net 
is  around  you.  And  if  you  remain  unchanged,  it  will 
draw  you  to  the  shore,  only  as  bad  fishes,  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  good,  and  cast  away. 

To  the  members  of  tJie  Christian  family.  Tlie  net  is 
around  you.  Tour  privileges  are  great.  But  privi- 
leges are  not  piety.  You  must  repent,  and  believe  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  or  your  destiny  is,  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  believers,  and  cast  away. 

To  jpersons  nominally  believers.     Your  profession  of 


THE   DRAG-NET.  413 

piety  is,  being  within  the  net.  But  the  day  of  discrimi- 
nation and  separation  is  coming. 

To  ^wsons  having  religious  cort/vicUons,  and  feel- 
ings not  rijp&aing  into  rcjpentance  or  faith.  Tliose  very 
convictions  and  feelings  may  deceive  you,  by  appear- 
ing to  be  good.  Those  convictions  and  feelings  must 
ripen  into  action,  or  the  Lord  will  not  own  you.  "  In- 
asmuch as  ye  did  it,"  is  his  reason  for  approving. 
"  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not^"*  is  his  reason  for  con- 
demning. 

The  day  of  discrimination,  separation,  and  retribu- 
tion is  hastening.  Death  determines  its  character  to 
each  of  us.  We  know  but  little  of  the  mighty  angels 
of  God  now.  But  we  shall  see  them  then  ;  they  will 
go  up  and  down  as  the  executioners  of  God's  decrees. 
Their  sympathies  are  with  God  and  justice.  They  will 
not  shrink  from  binding  the  tares  in  bundles,  or, 
severing  the  tares  from  the  wheat,  and  casting  them 
into  the  furnace. 


31 


LECTURE  xxyn. 

THE  ABSENT  KING  ;  OR,  EEWARDS  PROPORTIONED  TO  MERIT. 

Luke  xrx.  11-27.  "And  as  they  heard  these  things,  he  added  and 
spake  a  parable,  because  he  was  nigh  to  Jerusalem,  and  because  they 
thought  that  the  kingdom  of  God  should  immediately  appear.  He  said 
therefore,  A  certain  nobleman  went  into  a  far  country  to  receive  for  him- 
self a  kingdom,  and  to  return.  And  he  called  his  ten  servants,  and  de- 
livered them  ten  pounds,  and  said  unto  them.  Occupy  till  I  come.  But  his 
citizens  hated  him,  and  sent  a  message  after  him,  saying,  We  will  not  have 
this  man  to  reign  over  us.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  he  was  returned, 
having  received  the  kingdom,  then  he  commanded  these  servants  to  be 
called  unto  him,  to  whom  he  had  given  the  money,  that  he  might  know 
how  much  every  man  had  gained  by  trading.  Then  came  the  first,  saying, 
Lord,  thy  pound  hath  gained  ten  pounds.  And  he  said  unto  him,  Well, 
thou  good  servant :  because  thou  hast  been  faithful  in  a  very  little,  have 
thou  authority  over  ten  cities.  And  the  second  came,  saying.  Lord,  thy 
pound  hath  gained  five  pounds.  And  he  said  lilcewise  to  him.  Be  thou  also 
over  five  cities.  And  another  came,  saying.  Lord,  behold,  he?'e  is  thy 
pound,  which  I  have  kept  laid  up  in  a  napkin  :  For  I  feared  thee,  because 
thou  art  an  austere  man :  thou  takest  up  that  thou  layedst  not  down,  and 
reapest  that  thou  didst  not  sow.  And  he  saith  unto  him,  Out  of  thine  own 
mouth  will  I  judge  thee,  thou  wicked  servant.  Thou  knewest  that  I  was 
an  austere  man,  taking  up  that  I  laid  not  down,  and  reaping  that  I  did 
not  sow  :  Wherefore  then  gavest  not  thou  my  money  into  the  bank,  that  at 
my  coming  I  might  have  required  mine  own  with  usury  ?  And  he  said 
unto  them  that  stood  by,  Take  from  him  the  pound,  and  give  it  to  him  that 
hath  ten  pounds.  (And  they  said  unto  him,  Lord,  he  hath  ten  pounds.) 
For  I  say  unto  you,  That  unto  every  one  which  hath  shall  be  given ;  antl 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  ^L& 

from  him  that  hath  not,  even  that  he  hath  shall  be  taken  away  from  him. 
But  those  mine  enemies,  which  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  them, 
bring  hither,  and  slay  them  before  me." 

A  TRUTH  in  words  may  be  a  false  proposition  in  him 
wlio  holds  or  utters  it.  The  royal  character  of  the  Mes- 
siah was  fully  believed  by  every  Jew.  Their  prophets 
had  so  abundantly  exhibited  it,  that  none  of  them 
doubted  in  regard  to  it.  And  yet  the  majority  of 
them  were  just  as  far  from  the  true  idea  oi  their  King 
as  if  they  had  wholly  denied  every  prophetic  decla- 
ration concerning  him  ;  which  shows  how  men  may 
hold  to  an  error,  and  fortify  it  by  passages  of  Scripture. 
Every  demonstration  of  supernatural  power  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  called  forth  the  expectation  in  the 
hearts  of  some  Jews  that  he  was  just  about  to  set  uj) 
his  victorious  throne  in  Jerusalem.  It  was  on  one  of 
these  occasions  that  he  pronounced  this  parable  ;  "  be- 
cause," it  is  said,  "  he  was  nigh  to  Jerusalem,  and 
because  they  thought  that  the  kingdom  of  God  should 
immediately  appear."  To  correct  that  notion,  as  they 
held  it,  he  showed  them  that  he  had  yet  to  go  away  to 
the  court  above,  before  completing  his  triumphs.  And 
instead  of  entering  at  once  into  the  joys  of  victory  and 
the  honors  of  conquerors,  his  servants  had  to  stay  in 
the  field  of  labor  and  conflict,  and  wait  in  the  faithful 
discharge  of  duty  for  the  return  of  their  Lord. 

The  simile  he  here  employs  was  very  familiar  to  his 
hearers,  and  very  impressive. '  Judea  having  become  a 
province  of  the  Roman  empire,  was  governed  by  Jews 
as  viceroys.  Every  king  or  tetrarch  of  Judea  must 
therefore  be  recognized  by  the  emperor.  Archelaus, 
Herod  and  Agrippa,  all  went  from  Palestine  to  Eome 
to  p]- jcure  from  Tiberius  and  the  other  emperors  the 


4:16  LECTUKE    XXYII. 

vice-regal  power.  So  the  Son  of  Mary  has  gone  to 
the  imperial  coui*t  to  receive  a  kingdom.  And  he 
has  here  left  on  record  a  statement  of  what  he  expects 
ns  to  do  in  his  absence,  and  of  what  we  may  expect  of 
him  on  his  return.     Our  attention  is  then  called  to, 

I.  The  King's  absence. 

The  first  feature  of  it  particularly  brought  to  view, 
in  relation  fb  this  subject  is,  that, 

1.  We  are  left  in  possession  of  his  p7'operty.  The 
parable  shows  this  by  the  sums  respectively  given  to 
the  stewards.  And  this  principle  is  much  insisted  on  in 
the  Scriptures.  "We  are  responsible  for  the  use  of  every 
faculty.  Our  tongue  is  our  own  in  some  respects  ;  and 
yet  we  shall  find,  one  day,  that  men  are  to  give  an  ac- 
count to  another  for  every  "idle  word"  they  utter, 
and  for  all  "  their  hard  speeches."  IS^othing  is  more 
common  than  for  us  to  regard  ourselves  as  completely 
owners  of  our  time,  property,  speech,  and  other  facul- 
ties and  possessions.  But  we  ought  thoroughly  to  dis- 
criminate here.  In  regard  to  our  fellow-men  we  are 
owners ;  in  regard  to  God  we  are  borrowers,  or  stew- 
ards. He  made  our  faculties  ;  he  is  the  source  of  our 
possessions.  They  are  his  before  they  are  ours.  And 
every  honest  person  earnestly  seeks  to  know  concerning 
any  trust,  just  what  his  rights  are ;  how  far,  he  in- 
quires, has  the  owner  invested  me  with  ownership  ;  to 
what  extent  may  I  use  these  treasures  for  my  purposes  ; 
to  what  extent  must  I  use  them  for  his.  And  not  only 
has  God  an  ownership,  but  he  alone  is  competent  to 
determine  the  proj)er  use  of  them,  and  guide  to  the  ends 
worthy  of  our  noble  endowments. 

Then  property,  the  power  of  accumulating  it ;  speech 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  41Y 

and  the  pjwer  of  writing,  and  all  forms  of  social  influ- 
ence are  intrnsted  to  us  by  another.  He  has  gone  away 
to  get  a  kingdom  which  he  will  establish  on  earth.  In 
his  absence  we  are  left  in  charge.  Each  steward  has 
his  own  department,  over  which  his  control  is  absolute. 
Other  stewards  may  counsel  him,  none  can  dictate  to 
him  ;  none  can  require  him  to  abandon  his  occupancy 
that  they  may  enter  in.  The  Master's  word  is  :  "  Oc- 
cupy till  I  come."  Only,  they  must  be  careful  to  re- 
member that  they  can  never  write  over  the  door  of  any 
room  in  their  house,  "no  admittance  to  the  master." 
It  is  often  proper  to  put  up  such  a  notice  in  reference 
to  our  fellow  stewards.  But  the  Lord  is  ownier  every 
where,  and  of  all ;  and  has  a  right  to  come  in  at  any 
hour,  inspect  every  thing,  and  pronounce  judgment ; 
to  reprove,  rebuke,  encourage,  counsel,  or  expel  us. 
These  servants  held  their  possessions  for  the  master's 
use  and  benefit.  So  do  we.  It  will  not  be  inquired  at 
last- — how  much  provision  did  you  make  to  outlive  your 
neighbors,  or  to  attract  their  attention  to  you  ;  or,  how 
highly  did  you  estimate  your  own  comfort.  The  latter 
is  a  legitimate  object  of  regard ;  and  we  have  instincts 
which  will  generally  insure  a  sufficient  degree  of  atten- 
tion to  that.  But  the  Master  will  inquire  what  w'e  did 
for  him,  his  cause,  his  people,  his  poor.  "  I  was  sick, 
I  was  hungry,  I  was  in  prison  ;  I,  my  people,  my  cause, 
my  poor ;  what  did  you  do  for  me  with  your  money, 
your  time,  your  talents,  your  tongue,  your  pen,  your 
influence  ? " 

Another  fact  then  to  be  noticed  concerning  our 
position  while  the  Lord  is  absent,  is,  that, 

2.  His  absence  and  our  stewai  dsMp  are  temjporai'y. 
Olirist  has  never  forsaken  his  kingdom  on  the  earth. 
18* 


418  LECTURE  xxvn. 

His  main  business  abroad  concerns  that  kingdom.  Tlio 
men  who  were  most  enlightened  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
had  the  most  sublime  and  the  most  cheering  anticipa- 
tions of  the  Lord's  return  to  take  possession  of  his 
kingdom  here.  All  the  intervening  time  seemed  to 
them  short,  and  of  little  value  ;  excej^t  as  it  furnished 
opportunity  to  prepare  the  world  for  his  kingdom,  and 
men  to  meet  him  in  peace. 

"  The  time  is  short,"  says  one.  So  that  this  life  has 
constant  reference  to  another.  Enjoyment,  or  what  is 
called  success  here,  is  not  the  great  end  to  be  pursued. 
Responsibility  to  the  Lord  characterizes  chiefly  our 
present  state.  He  is  the  owner  of  all  we  call  our  own  ; 
and  in  his  service  it  must  be  employed.  The  actions 
of  this  life  must  please  him ;  they  are  to  be  such  in 
motive  and  spirit  as  his  judgment  approves.  The 
actions  of  this  life  have  the  most  important  conse- 
quences in  the  next.  And  we  are  constantly  either 
transacting  the  Lord's  affairs,  or  neglecting  them ; 
trading  for  him,  or  burying  his  money.  A  Christless 
life  is  another  betrayal  of  trust ;  a  wasting  of  our  Lord's 
possessions.  So  that  it  is  as  much  a  question  of  hon- 
esty as  of  piety,  whether  we  will  serve  Christ,  or  live 
for  our  own  worldly  interests. 

This  is  the  view  of  our  present  life  presented  in  tlie 
parable.     It  likewise  describes, 

H.  The  Lord's  return  to  his  earthly  kingdom, 

WITH  its  momentous  CONSEQUENCES  TO  MEN. 

It  will  be  characterized  by 

1.  Manifestations  of  his  royal  authority.  "  And  it 
came  to  pass,  when  he  was  returned,  having  i-eceived 
the  kingdom,"  is  the  description  in  the  parable.     Else- 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  419 

where  in  the  Scriptures  it  is  given  wilh  great  fulness 
and  grandeur. 

When  he  arose  from  the  earth  "he  ascended  on 
high  far  above  all  principalities  and  powers,  and  is 
seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high."  And 
between  his  departure  and  return  there  is  a  short  but 
momentous  suspense,  in  which  the  earth  is  to  go 
through  the  most  important  period  of  its  history.  But 
every  thing  is  at  length  to  be  changed  ;  "  the  host  of 
heaven  shall  be  dissolved,  and  the  heavens  shall  be 
rolled  together  as  a  scroll.  And  then  shall  they  see 
the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  a  cloud,  with  power  and 
great  glory.  Tlie  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  his  glory, 
and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him ;  then  shall  he  sit 
upon  the  throne  of  his  glory."  The  early  predictions 
announce  his  coming  to  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his 
father  David.  He  is  anointed  king  upon  the  holy  hill 
of  Zion.  To  him  every  knee  is  to  bow,  and  every 
tongue  to  confess.  "  Having  received  the  kingdom,". 
he  says  of  the  prince  in  the  parable  ;  under  which  image 
he  represented  himself.  He  now  reigns  inwardly  in 
the  hearts  of  a  few  who  bow  to  his  sceptre.  But  he  is 
not  acknowledged  in  all  pagandom,  in  all  Moham- 
medan territories,  by  the  Jews,  by  the  majority  of 
men  in  Christian  nations.  His  laws  do  not  govern 
society.  Men  do  not  require  of  one  another  allegiance 
to  him.  They  are  not  controlled  by  his  will  in  the  use 
of  time,  p,roperty,  talents,  or  influence.  And  this  state 
of  things  is  allowed  to  exist,  until  he  return.  Tlien 
there  is  to  be  an  entire  change  ;  probation  ends,  and 
retribution  begins.  The  servants  are  to  be  called  to 
account.  All  unbelief  about  his  person,  about  our 
''esponsibility  to  him,  will  then  cease.     Every  eye  shall 


itiO  LECTURE   XXVII. 

see  him.  It  will  then  be  vision,  and  not  faith.  He 
and  his  supremacy  or  kingly  authority  will  then  be 
fully  recognized  and  acknowledged.  There  will  be 
none  to  question  it,  none  to  contend  against  it.  Then 
Christ  will  no  more  be  preached  in  sermons,  and  repre- 
sented in  sacraments,  for  cold  unbelief  to  say :  "Where 
is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ?  "  Then  it  will  no  longer 
be  a  wonder  that  believers  used  to  live  in  reference  to  his 
authority,  and  to  anticipate  his  coming,  as  the  greatest 
future  event  in  the  world's  history.  The  reasonable- 
ness, tlie  wisdom  of  it,  all  will  then  see. 

The  next  feature  of  his  appearing,  as  described  in 
the  parable,  will  be 

2.  The  rewarding  of  Ms  faithful  servants.  "  Then 
he  commanded  those  servants  to  be  called  unto  him,  to 
whom  he  had  given  the  money,  that  he  might  know 
how  much  every  man  had  gained  by  trading.  Then 
came  the  first,  saying.  Lord,  thy  pound  hath  gained  ten 
pounds.  And  he  said  unto  him  :  well,  thou  good  ser- 
vant ;  because  thou  hast  been  faithful  in  a  very  little, 
have  thou  authority  over  ten  cities.  And  the  second 
came,  saying,  Lord,  thy  pound  hath  gained  five  pounds. 
And  he  said  likewise  to  him  ;  be  thou  also  over  five 
cities." 

The  remarkable  facts  here  presented  to  our  view 
are  these  :  fidelity  to  Christ  in  this  life  will  meet  his 
approbation  and  reward  when  he  comes  to  take  his 
kingdom ;  the  rewards  will  be  proportioned  to  a  certain 
scale  of  merit ;  they  will,  in  every  case,  immeasurably 
transcend  all  merit ;  and  dominion  under  the  Lord,  or 
something  equivalent  to  it,  will  be  the  reward. 

Here  arise  two  important  inquiries.  The  first  is 
this :  how  does  rewarding  of  fidelity  accord  with  the 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  421 

constant  representation  of  Scripture,  that  we  are  saved, 
not  by  works,  but  by  grace  ? 

There  need  be  no  diihculty  in  reconciling  the  two. 
And  yet  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  many  persons, 
by  a  superficial  view  of  this  form  of  representation, 
which  is  so  frequent  in  the  Scriptures,  make  it  incon- 
sistent with  the  scriptural  doctrine,  that  our  salvation 
is  all  of  grace,  and  in  no  degree  of  works  or  obedience 
to  the  law.  The  whole  will  be  clear  if  we  remember 
that  our  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ  really 
begins  here  on  earth,  and  at  a  time  when  we  have  no 
merit,  and  deserve  nothing  but  perdition ;  and  just 
when  we  are  acknowledging  that  solemn  fact. 

Let  it  then  be  distinctly  noticed  that  our  entrance 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  not  by  merit.  We 
receive  salvation  the  instant  we  take  it,  not  as  a  reward, 
but  as  a  gift.  Look  at  the  blessing  which  we  then 
receive,  in  its  particulars  ;  there  is  pardon.  ITiat  is  the 
reward  to  Christ  for  his  sacrifice.  He  purchased  par- 
don with  his  blood.  To  him  it  is  a  payment ;  to  us,  a 
gift.  It  is  not  the  reward  of  penitence.  That  is  but 
doing  the  duty  of  the  present  moment ;  not  cancelling 
the  guilt  of  past  neglects  and  past  transgressions.  It  is 
not  the  reward  of  faith  ;  for  faith,  in  the  very  moment 
it  is  exercised,  receives  forgiveness  as  a  gift,  as  some- 
thing done  for  us  in  the  time  of  our  entire  ill-desert. 
So  that  the  blessings  which  we  get  by  our  faith,  before 
we  have  performed  any  good  works,  and  irrespective 
of  them,  are  pardon,  adoption,  the  Holy  Spirit,  regen- 
eration, and  heaven.  That  is  the  scriptural  doctrine 
of  salvation  "by  grace,"  "through  faith,"  "without 
the  deeds  of  the  law." 

But  what  we  do  get  by  works,  is  the  inward  satis 


422  LECTURE    XXVII. 

faction  of  doing  right  instead  of  wrong  ;  the  satisfaction 
of  bringing  lionor  to  Christ,  of  benefiting  others ;  and, 
at  last,  a  special  and  discriminating  acknowledgment 
of  our  good  deeds  by  onr  Lord.  And  this  is  the  fact 
brought  to  view  in  the  parable.  We  are  there  shown 
not  only  that,  under  this  system  of  gratuitous  salvation, 
there  will  be  a  reward  of  good  works,  but  also  that  the 
rewards  will  be  proportioned  to  fidelity,  skill  and  suc- 
cess ;  for  all  these  are  here  introduced.  The  steward 
who  had  gained  twice  as  many  pounds  as  the  other 
who  had  the  same  capital,  displayed  (we  may  naturally 
suppose,  other  things  being  equal ;  such  as  capacity 
and  opportunity)  twice  as  much  of  fidelity  and  skill,  as 
he  certainly  did  of  success.  Not  that  the  mere  amount 
of  visible  success  will  always  turn  the  scale,  for  we  see 
that  the  poor  widow's  two  mites  were  placed  above  the 
rich  contributions  by  him  that  knows  the  heart,  because 
this  displayed  greater  fidelity  and  zeal  than  any  other 
offering ;  and  fidelity  and  zeal  in  a  good  cause  ai'e 
worth  more  than  mere  results. 

The  other  inquiry  we  started  was  this  :  is  there  not 
here  an  appeal  to  ambition,  or  the  love  of  power  and 
dominion  ?  No  ;  j^robably  that  is  wdiolly  figurative. 
Mr.  Trench  quotes  from  a  writer  who  tells  of  a  slave 
thus  rewarded,  as  if  it  were  not  uncommon  in  Eastern 
countries,  even  in  modern  times.  A  servant  of  the 
Sultan  Zangi  having  given  proofs  of  prudence  and  dex- 
terity in  the  public  business,  the  Sultan  exclaimed : 
"  It  is  fit  to  give  such  a  man  as  this  command  over  a 
city."  And  at  once  he  made  him  governor  of  Kurish, 
and  sent  him  thither.  We  are  not  then  obliged  to  un- 
derstand any  thing  more  than  rewards  suited  to  a  being 
perfected  in  holiness  ;  which  rewards  bear  to  the  con- 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  423 

duct  mid  success  rewarded,  tlie  same  proportion  as 
gorernorsliip  over  a  great  city  to  a  few  pounds  of 
money.  And  yet  it  may  be  that  the  Lord  is  here 
l^reparing  beings  for  vast  spheres  of  glory,  usefuhiess 
and  blessedness  hereafter,  in  which  the  two  prominent 
elements  are, — zeal  and  fidelity  in  his  service. 

Of  all  the  actions  of  this  life  to  be  rewarded,  of 
course  those  will  be  highest  which  sprung  from  the 
highest  motives.  And  of  all  the  motives  of  human 
action,  the  desire  to  be  faithful  to  God  is  supreme. 
Therefore,  amid  the  rewards  distributed  in  the  day  of 
the  King's  return,  the  highest  will  be  given  to  those 
servants  of  Christ  who  most  constantly  and  most  singly 
used  their  powers  to  promote  his  glory,  advance  his 
kingdom,  or  do  his  will.  Selfishness,  worldliness,  pride, 
covetousness,  ambition,  indolence,  will  all  appear  in- 
finitely evil,  while  loving  Christ  and  laboring  to  honor 
him  will  aj^pear  the  summit  of  human  excellerce  and 
glory.  Many  of  the  modes  of  expressing  love  to  Christ 
are,  in  themselves,  so  small,  that  the  righteous  are  repre- 
sented as  saying,  "  Lord,  when  saw  Ave  thee  a  hungered, 
or  naked  ?  Then  shall  he  say  to  them  :  inasmuch  as 
ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye 
did  it  unto  me." 

The  next  feature  of  retribution  here  represented  as 
attending  the  Lord's  coming,  is, 

3.  llie  punishtnent  of  mere  neglect  and  indolence. 
It  has  been  said  by  the  Lord,  "  He  that  is  not  for  me, 
is  against  me."  Many  think  they  are  quite  safe  be- 
cause they  are  are  not  as  bad  as  many  others.  If  they 
are  not  as  pious  as  a  few,  they  are  not  as  bad  as  the 
multitude.  Tliey  never  oppose  religion,  if  they  never 
promote  it.     They  never  speak  against  Christ,  if  they 


424  LECTUKE   XXVII. 

never  speak  for  him.  Tliey  approve  of  prayer,  if  tliey 
never  practise  it.  They  like  to  see  other  people  going 
to  heaven,  if  they  never  take  any  very  active  steps  to 
get  there  themselves.  But  here  the  Lord  presents  a 
representative  of  that  whole  class  coming  to  the  judg- 
ment. And  what  now  does  the  Lord  think  of  him  and 
his  course  ?  He  always  thought  pretty  well  of  it  him- 
self ;  will  the  Lord  confirm  his  opinion  ?  Let  us  hear 
his  sentence  :  "  Out  of  thine  own  mouth  will  I  judge 
thee,  thou  wicked  servant.  Thou  knewest  that  I  was 
an  austere  man,  reaping  where  I  did  not  sow.  Where- 
fore then  gavest  thou  not  my  money  into  the  bank,  that 
at  my  coming  I  might  have  required  mine  own  with 
interest !  And  he  said  unto  them  that  stood  by  ;  take 
from  him  the  pound."  This,  as  we  know  from  another 
discourse  of  the  Lord,  is  only  part  of  his  sentence  ;  and 
that  the  least  terrible.  But  that  is  dreadful  enough. 
"  Strip  him  of  all  his  gifts  and  endowments,  and  oppor- 
tunities of  usefulness.  I  have  neither  confidence  nor 
interest  in  him.  He  will  never  do  any  good  in  the 
universe  while  he  and  it  endure.  He  has  voluntarily 
renounced  my  holy  service,  the  great  social  interests  of 
my  kingdom ;  now  let  him  go  forth  unhonored,  disre- 
garded, solitary,  unsympathizing,  not  cared  for.  For  a 
period  I  lent  him  talents,  gave  him  opportunities,  and 
made  known  to  him  my  will ;  but  all  has  been  in  vain. 
He  never  would  love  me,  nor  submit  to  my  sceptre,  nor 
consecrate  himself  to  my  service.  He  lived  in  a  town 
where  there  were  many  active  servants  of  mine  ;  but 
he  never  would  join  them,  and  aid  them.  His  life  was 
spent  selfishly  ;  and  now  he  comes  to  the  judgment 
unrolling  a  napkin  ;  and,  presenting  the  pound,  tells  me 
that  there  I  have  my  own.     Take  it  from  him.     He  is 


THE    ABSENT   KING.  425 

a  barren  fig-tree,  wliicli  has  disappointed  all  the  owner's 
expectations,  who  now  abandons  it  for  ever."  What  a 
prospect  for  an  intelligent  being,  from  whom  its  Maker 
ceases  to  expect  any  good  for  ever !  Native  facnlties 
remain  ;  but  powers  and  opportunities  of  serving  God 
and  benefiting  men  are  taken  away.  And  he  shall  see 
the  man  whom  he  once  despised  as  inferior  to  him  in 
talents  and  attainments,  now  entering  into  the  posses- 
sion of  those  very  gifts. 

Then  there  is  another  aspect  of  the  great  day  of  the 
Lord's  return  here  presented. 

4.  His  enemies  will  he  destroyed.  When  the  king 
was  going  away,  his  citizens,  that  hated  him,  sent  a 
message  after  him,  saying :  "  we  will  not  have  this  man 
to  reign  over  us."  So  when  he  returned,  having  re- 
ceived the  kingdom,  and  when  he  had  concluded  the 
judgment  of  the  stewards,  he  came  to  those  who  reject- 
ed his  authority.  His  sentence  on  them  was  :  "  Those 
mine  enemies  who  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over 
them,  bring  hither,  and  slay  them  before  me." 

We  believe  that  our  Creator  designed  that  in  two 
important  departments  of  our  life,  we  should  choose 
om*  own  rulers  ;  that  is,  in  the  Church  and  the  State. 
But  there  are  two  other  departments  in  which  he 
chooses  for  us  ;  the  family  and  the  moral  kingdom  of 
God.  From  him  with  whom  is  all  power,  dominion, 
and  authority,  the  decree  has  gone  forth, — "  Behold,  I 
have  set  my  King  upon  my  holy  hill  of  Zion.  Kiss 
the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the 
way." 

Many  who  have  heard  the  decree  are  determined 
to  resist  it ;  and,  to  test  both  the  reality  of  the  decree, 
and  the  authority  of  liim  who  issued  it.     Some  do  it  by 


426  LECTURE   XXVII. 

denying  the  authenticity  of  the  royal  proclamation. 
They  say  this  is  a  forgery,  and  these  are  not  the 
King's  seals.  Other's  make  light  of  it,  and  go  their 
way ;  one  to  his  farm,  another  to  his  merchandise. 
But  the  language  of  all  their  hearts  is  the  same  :  we 
do  not  like  the  rigid,  holy  requirements  of  Christ,  and 
therefore  he  shall  not  reign  over  us.  Now  hear  what 
the  King  will  do  at  his  coming.  You  set  Christ  down 
to  be  one  like  our  modern  Universalist,  prisoner's 
friend,  anti-caj)ital-punishment  philanthropists.  But 
you  and  they  never  got  that  view  from  his  own  lips. 
He  thus  describes  this  feature  of  his  second  coming. 
"  The  day  of  vengeance  is  in  my  heart,  and  the  year 
of  my  redeemed  is  come."  In  one  parable  he  twice 
presents  this  awful  aspect  of  his  coming.  "  When  the 
King  heard  thereof,  he  was  wroth  ;  and  he  sent  forth 
his  armies,  and  destroyed  those  murderers  and  burned 
up  their  city.  And  when  the  King  came  in  to  see  the 
guests,  he  saw  there  a  man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding 
garment.  Then  said  the  King  to  the  servants,  bind 
him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away,  and  cast  him 
into  outer  darkness  ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth."  "  The  Lord  Jesus,"  it  is  announced, 
"  shall  be  revealed  from  heaven  with  the  angels  of  his 
power,  in  flaming  fire,  taking  vengeance  on  them  that 
know  not  God,  and  that  obey  not  the  Gospel  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  the  same  strain  of  description 
you  will  find  carried  on  to  the  end  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, winding  up  in  awful  grandeur  in  John's  closing 
visions.  Now  you  may,  in  your  wisdom,  object  and 
argue,  and  think  that  is  not  the  way  to  preach  a  Gospel 
of  mercy  ;  but  that  is  the  Lord's  way  of  preaching,  and 
it  will  certainly  be  his  way  of  acting. 


THE    ABSENT   KING.  427 

TKen  merely  negative  goodness  will  not  he  rewarded. 
By  negative  goodness  I  mean  that  which  many  a  per- 
son recognizes  in  himself  when  he  is  reading  an  account 
of  some  very  wicked  action,  or  talking  about  some 
wicked  person ;  he  thanks  God  he  never  did  so,  and 
he  is  totally  unlike  that  person.  It  is  that  view  which 
one  takes  of  himself,  who  says  to  himself,  when  he 
hears  about  the  judgment  and  the  wrath  of  God,  and 
everlasting  punishment,  "  well,  I'm  quite  sure  God  will 
never  treat  me  so  for  the  few  faults  of  my  life."  This 
reasoning  includes  two  false  princiijles,  which  this  par- 
able opposes.  The  one  is,  that  a  man  may  neglect  all 
the  claims  of  his  Creator,  disregard  his  requirements, 
defeat  his  intentions,  and  then  escape  punishment,  be- 
cause there  are  many  other  wicked  things  he  did  not 
do.  The  other  false  principle  is,  that  after  a  man  has 
spent  his  life  in  taking  care  of  his  own  interests,  then 
God  must  reward  him  with  an  eternity  of  blessedness 
for  it.  How  strange  is  the  self-flattery  and  self-delusion 
of  sin ;  that  it  leads  men  to  believe  every  thing  in 
God's  word  which  favors  their  self-love,  and  deny  every 
thing  that  makes  them  uncomfortable  in  disobeying 
God  ! 

This  parable  further  teaches,  that 

Merely  selfish  morality  will  not  save  any  one.  Sup- 
pose you  know  one  of  these  stewards,  and  he  is  dying. 
Do  you  speak  of  him  thus  :  "  What  a  good  man  ;  how 
upright  in  all  his  dealings  ;  how  scrupulous  to  keep  his 
promises  ;  how  true  and  just  he  was  !  Well,  he  has 
gone  to  his  rest  ? "  Kow,  how  do  you  know  he  has 
gone  to  his  rest  ?  You  and  I  know  he  has  gone  to  his 
account.     And  Christ  here  tells  us  what  kind  of  inqui- 


428  LECTURE  xxvn. 

sition  lie  will  there  undergo.  As  Christ  is  to  be  be- 
lieved, from  youi'  account  of  this  man,  he  has  not  gone 
to  his  rest  at  all.  He  is  that  servant  who  wrapped  hie 
pound  in  a  napkin,  and  buried  it.  And  you  can  learn 
from  two  parables  what  becomes  of  him.  Why,  you 
say,  "  what  has  he  done  ;  how  can  so  blameless  a  life 
be  censured  by  a  holy  Judge  !  "  Just  as  you  would 
blame  an  agent  who  lived  at  your  expense,  and  was 
bound  to  your  service,  whom  you  had  intrusted  with 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  to  transact  an  important  business 
for  you  during  your  absence  in  Em-ope  ;  and  when  you 
return  and  ask  for  the  results  of  his  labors,  he  coolly 
tells  you,  "  I  have  not  done  any  harm  with  your  money, 
I  have  not  wasted  it ;  here  it  all  is,  I  have  been  attend- 
ing to  my  own  affairs ;  and  supposing  you  were  very 
good-natured,  I  did  not  trouble  myself  about  your  busi- 
ness, your  wishes,  or  your  orders  !  " 

This  parable  shows,  that 

Mere  henevolence  will  not  save  any  one.  "We  will 
suppose  that  this  steward  could  add  to  his  plea,  and 
state  :  "I  was  very  kind  to  the  poor.  And  I  knew  you 
were  kind,  so  I  daily  distributed  garments  and  food  to 
them.  I  set  up  young  men  in  business  ;  I  gave  money 
to  found  hospitals  ;  I  relieved  the  widow,  and  sheltered 
the  orphan." — ^That  is  all  very  well ;  but  suppose  the 
Lord  includes  all  these  in  his  requirements,  and  then 
has  a  still  higher  use  of  liis  property  which  he  requires 
of  this  steward.  How  then  will  his  doing  one  good  thing 
be  an  apology  for  neglecting  another  ?  Sujjpose  you 
employ  a  physician  to  take  care  of  your  family  in  your 
absence.  And  on  your  retm-n,  your  wife  and  one  of 
your  children  are  dead  ;  dead  from  sheer  neglect,  and 


THE   ABSENT   KING.  429 

all  the  physician's  reply  to  your  inquiries  about  it  is  : 
"  I  did  indeed  neglect  them,  but  I  gave  a  loaf  of  bread 
to  a  poor  widow  that  lives  near  me."  Would  you  ac- 
cept the  plea ;  and,  above  all,  if  you  had  a  heaven  of 
eternal  blessedness  to  give,  would  you  give  it  to  that 
physician  as  a  reward  for  that  loaf  of  bread  to  that 
poor  widow  ?  And  yet  that  is  just  about  what  irre- 
ligious philanthropists  expect. 

We  see  again  from  this  parable, 

The  necessity  of  discriminating  hetween  salivation  as 
a  gift,  and  degrees  of  honor  and  hlessedness  as  rewards 
to  merit.  No  one  can  understand  the  religion  of  Christ, 
until  he  has  clearly  made  that  distinction.  Without  it, 
he  will  make  perpetual  confusion  and  contradiction  of 
the  Scriptures.  In  one  passage,  e.  g.  he  is  told  :  "  Eter- 
nal life  is  a  gift,  and  the  wages  of  the  sinner,  or  the  re- 
ward of  man's  merit,  is  death."  And  similar  to  this  is 
the  declaration  :  "  By  the  deeds  of  the  law  shall  no 
flesh  be  justified."  And  yet  in  this  parable,  the  faithful 
stewards  are  rewarded  for  their  fidelity.  And  in  the 
25th  chapter  of  Matthew,  Christ  represents  himself  as 
enumerating  the  deeds  of  charity  his  people  had  per- 
formed, before  he  pronounced  the  welcome :  "  Come 
ye  blessed — inherit  the  kingdom."  One  passage  re- 
lieves the  whole  subject :  "  The  promises  are  in  Christ." 
Tliat  is,  if  any  sinner  does  not  come  to  Christ  by  faith, 
all  his  good  deeds  fail  to  atone  for  one  sin,  or  to  pur- 
chase eternal  life.  If  he  comes  to  Christ,  and  acknow- 
ledges the  greatness  of  his  SiU  to  be  represented  by  the 
price  of  his  redemption,  then  his  sins  are  blotted  out, 
alone  for  Christ's  sake  ;  then  his  good  deeds  are  re- 


430  LECTURE  xxvn. 

warded,  in  ]3i*oportion  to  tlieir  goodness  ;  but  altogether 
in  Christ,  and  for  Christ's  sake. 

What  a  picture  of  the  loorld  does  this  parable  'pre- 
sent. There  are  obscure  persons,  young  and  old,  who 
are  every  day  preparing  for  the  brightest  glories  of 
heaven  ;  planting  trees  that  shall  for  ever  bear  for  them 
the  golden  fruit  of  Paradise,  They  are  unknown  by 
the  world  ;  passed  by ;  discouraged.  They  are  faith- 
ful in  a  little  now ;  they  shall  be  rulers  over  much, 
hereafter.  Then  many  of  the  mighty,  the  wealthy,  the 
learned,  the  gay,  are  either  spendthrifts,  wasting  the 
King's  property  ;  or,  burying  it  in  a  napkin.  Tlie  last 
they  will  hear  of  all  their  possessions,  will  be,  "  Take 
it  from  him." 


LECTURE  XXYIII. 

THE  RICH  FOOL;   OR,   GRAVE   MISCALCULATIONS    ABOUT   WEALTH. 

Luke  xii.  13-21. — "And  one  of  the  company  said  unto  him,  Master, 
speak  to  my  brother,  th:it  he  divide  the  inheritance  with  me.  And  he 
said  unto  him,  Man,  who  made  me  a  judge  or  a  divider  over  you  ?  And 
he  said  unto  them.  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  covetousness :  for  a  man's 
life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he  possesseth. 
And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them,  saying,  The  ground  of  a  certain  rich 
man  brought  forth  plentifully :  and  he  thought  within  himself,  saying, 
What  shall  I  do,  because  I  have  no  room  where  to  bestow  my  fruits  ? 
And  he  said.  This  will  I  do :  I  will  pull  down  my  barns,  and  build 
greater ;  and  there  will  I  bestow  all  my  fruits  and  my  goods.  And  I  will 
say  to  my  soul,  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  ;  take 
thine  ease,  eat  drink,  cmd  be  merry.  But  God  said  unto  him.  Thou  fool, 
this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee  :  then  whose  shall  those 
things  be,  which  thou  hast  provided?  So  is  he  that  layeth  up  treasure  for 
himself,  and  is  not  rich  toward  God." 

It  is  the  lot  of  some  to  live  amid  the  signs  of  wealtli, 
from  infancy ;  and,  of  others,  to  enter  suddenly  upon 
the  inheritance  of  large  estates.  Others,  again,  attain 
more  gradually  to  wealth,  by  the  regular  advance  of 
trade. 

Probably  few  in  either  of  these  classes  ever  serious- 
ly propose  to  themselves  this  one  important  question  : 
what  would  my  Saviour  say  to  me  about  it,  if  he  were 
to  address  me  'i     But  if  any  should  wish  to  know  his 


432  ^  LECTFKE   XXVIII. 

views,  they  can,  because  lie  has  here  spoken  very  dis- 
tinctly in  regard  to  confidence  in  riches. 

He  describes  a  substantial  farmer  who  had  reached 
the  climax  of  prosperity  ;  his  grounds  having  just  pro- 
duced so  abundantly,  that  he  found  his  existing  accom- 
modations insufficient.  And  as  he  retired ;  perhaps 
one  fine  harvest  evening,  after  seeing  wagon  following 
wagon,  bearing  home  their  precious  burden,  he  poured 
out  his  soul ;  not  in  thanksgiving  to  the  bounteous  pro- 
vider ;  nor  in  serious  inquiries,  whether  there  was  any 
responsibility  connected  with  all  this  ;  but  in  this  pure- 
ly selfish,  worldly,  sensual  soliloquy  :  "  What  shall  I 
do,  because  I  have  no  room  where  to  bestow  my 
fruits  ?  And  he  said,  this  will  I  do  ;  I  will  pull  down 
my  barns,  and  build  greater  ;  and  there  will  I  bestow  all 
my  fruits  and  my  goods.  And  I  will  say  to  my  soul : 
Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  ; 
take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry." 

To  perceive  the  Saviour's  motive  in  presenting  this 
case,  we  may  recall  the  occasion  of  it.  It  seems  that 
one  of  the  company  whom  he  was  seriously  addressing 
in  regard  to  their  spiritual  interests,  proposed  to  him  to 
interpose  his  authority,  and  compel  his  brother  to  di- 
vide their  inherited  estate  with  him.  The  man  might 
have  had  justice  on  his  side.  And  it  might  have  been 
proper  for  him  to  appeal  to  an  authorized  tribunal  to 
obtain  his  rights.  But,  in  coming  to  Christ  with  such 
a  case,  he  betrayed  that  very  spirit  which  is  ever  at 
work,  unfitting  men  for  the  service  of  God  on  earth, 
and  for  his  glory  in  heaven.  He  could  see  nothing  in 
the  Teacher  from  heaven,  the  soul's  Redeemer,  but  a 
Judge  of  earthly  rights  ;  and  nothing  in  Christianity, 
but  a  code  of  worldly  justice. 


THE    KICH    FOOL.  433 

The  Saviour's  immediate  answer  to  him  is  full  of 
divine  wisdom.  It  is  but  one  sentence  ;  a  brief  appeal. 
But  if  that  one  sentence  had  been  properly  regarded 
by  the  leaders  of  the  Church,  the  world  would  have 
been  spared  some  of  the  darkest  scenes  in  its  history. 
"  Man,  who  made  me  a  judge,  or  a  divider  over  you  ? 
That  sentence  draws  this  clear,  broad  line  ;  the  inter- 
ests of  this  fleeting  life,  however  powerfully  affected  by 
Christianity,  are  entirely  separate  from,  as  well  as  in- 
ferior to  the  spiritual  interests  of  man.  Christ,  his 
ministers,  and  his  Church  have  nothing  to  do  with  ad- 
judicating, legislating,  or  controlling  the  former.  Their 
whole  work  pertains  to  the  latter. 

After  thus  declining  to  interfere  in  a  family-quar- 
rel about  property,  the  Saviour  drew  this  strong  por- 
trait of  a  worldling ;  exhibiting  principally  his  fatal 
miscalculations  concerning  property  which  appear  in 
this  idolatrous  soliloquy  :  "  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods 
laid  up  for  many  years  ;  take  thine  ease,  eat^  drink, 
and  be  merry."  He  was  satisfied  with  possession,  solely 
as  the  means  of  self-indulgence. 

He  would  not  see  that  wealth  is  not  only  an  insuffi- 
cient pledge  of  happiness,  but  may  even  be  a  source  of 
immeasurable  evil ;  as  it  was,  in  fact,  to  himself. 

His  case  furnishes  us  a  warning,  not  to  miscalculate 
in  regard  to  the  value  of  wealth  ;  not  to  satisfy  the  soul 
with  it ;  not  to  over-estimate  either  its  intrinsic  worth, 
or,  the  duration  of  our  ownership. 

These  mistakes  will  now  claim  our  attention.  Tlie 
first  refers  to 

I.  The  esttrinsic  value  of  money. 
That  it  has  a  real  value,  all  admit.     But,  it  has  not 
19 


434  LECTURE    XXVIII. 

a  supreme  value.     And  placing  wealth  out  of  its  true 
place, 

1.  Degrades  the  soul.  I  speak  not  now  so  much  of 
the  gradual  process  of  degradation,  as  of  one  specific 
mental  act ;  a  practical  decision  of  the  mind ;  of  one 
fearful  step  that  is  taken,  whether  it  be  the  first  or  the 
thousandtli  time,  when  man,  a  complex  being,  accepts 
as  his  portion,  that  which  can  satisfy  only  the  inferior 
faculties  of  his  nature.  This,  of  course,  excludes  the 
case  of  desiring  money  as  an  instrument  of  benevolence, 
or  as  a  means  of  intellectual  cultivation.  The  case  be- 
fore us  is  not  either  of  these  classes  ;  for,  this  is  the  lan- 
guage it  addresses  to  itself :  "  Soul,  take  thine  ease, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  ;"  in  other  words,  "  Glory  to 
Providence,  or  to  chance,  no  matter  which  ;  I  am  now 
able  to  make  full  provision  for  all  the  wants  of  my 
soul."  And  what  are  they  ?  Ease,  eating,  drinking, 
merry-making.  It  is  striking  that  he  does  not  even 
select  the  highest  forms  of  good  which  money  confers. 
It  certainly  is  nobler  to  deliglit  in  art,  in  beauty  of 
form,  color  and  sound  ;  in  architecture  and  sculpture, 
in  painting  and  music  ;  in  travel  and  books,  than  in 
idleness,  gluttony  and  mirth.  And  yet,  while  many 
ungodly  men  esteem  money  chiefly  for  these  more  re- 
fined fruits  of  it,  they  are  reall}^  as  far  from  satisfying 
the  soul  with  all  they  do,  as  the  grosser  glutton.  Tliis 
we  shall  notice  again,  wlien  we  come  to  consider  what 
is  the  true  source  of  the  soul's  blessedness.  But  the 
parable  leads  us  to  remark  on  the  folly  of  seeking  the 
soul's  good  in  these  lower  forms  of  enjoyment ;  ease, 
good  living,  and  amusement.  They  all  suit  the  body  ; 
but  they  degrade  the  soul,  when  they  become  import- 
ant in  its  estimation.     Respite  from  labor,  seasonable 


THE    KICH    FOOL.  435 

participation  in  the  bounties  of  Providence,  the  cheer- 
ful h^ugh,  the  relaxing  amusement  are  not  hurtful.  But 
the  life  of  ease,  pleasure  and  amusement,  is  the  death 
of  our  notler  nature.  Activity  ;  self-control ;  high  and 
holy  purpose  ;  grand  and  disinterested,  or  kind,  sympa- 
thizing emotions,  are  the  true  means  of  enjoyment  to 
our  spiritual  nature.  And  a  rich  man  or  a  poor  man 
can  be  happy,  only  in  proportion  as  he  exercises  these ; 
using  his  little  or  his  greater  means  under  the  control 
of  those  powers.  It  is  therefore  a  degradation  to  man's 
noble:*  nature  to  make  the  possession  of  wealth  a  su- 
preme good. 

But  there  was  a  still  greater  loss  in  this  man's  mode 
of  regarding  and  using  riches. 

2.  It  deprived  his  soul  of  God,  its  true  portion. 
Poor  is  the  rich  man,  who  has  sold  all  his  friends  for 
gold  ;  how  pitiable  too  is  an  orphan  ;  but  what  think 
you  of  a  soul  without  God  ?  Jesus  says,  this  man  was 
of  that  class,  "  So  is  he  that  layeth  up  treasure  for 
himself,  and  is  not  rich  toward  God."  "What  can  that 
expression  describe  ?  One  that  God  regards  as  poor  ; 
so  that  if  our  Maker  should  utter  his  judgment  of  him 
in  an  exclamation,  it  would  be — "  Poor,  poor  man  !  " 
It  is  one  that  has  not  faith.  He  trusts  gold,  but  not  God. 
It  is  one  that  has  no  love  to  God  ;  but,  love  only  to  gold. 
It  is  one  that  has  no  claim  on  God,  for  he  has  aban- 
doned his  Redeemer  for  gold.  He  is  rich  in  gold  ;  so 
is  the  poor  dull  clod  of  the  earth.  He  is  rich  in  gold  ; 
so  is  the  carcass  of  the  traveller  that  sank  with  his 
treasures  to  the  deep  caverns  of  the  sea.  He  is  rich  ; 
but  not  toward  God,  And  he  is  so  great  a  fool,  tliat  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  delusion  and  spiritual  poverty,  lie 
is  saying  :  "  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for 


436  LECTURE    XXVIII. 

many  years."     Abraham  had  God  with  worldly  posses- 
sions ;  this  man  had  wealth  without  God. 

There  is  still  another  radical  error  in  regard  to 
money.     It  respects, 

n.  The  duration  of  its  ownership. 

This  man  did  not  seriously  anticipate  living  here 
for  ever ;  yet,  he  practised  on  himself  the  common  de- 
lusion, while  admitting  that  he  conld  not  enjoy  worldly 
good  for  more  than  a  limited  period,  to  make  that  pe- 
riod appear  to  cover  the  entire  future.  "  Soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years."  This  was, 
virtually,  saying  to  himself :  "  I  am  now  satisfied  ;  my 
future  is  well  provided  for ;  and  all  care  may  now  be 
dismissed."     So  that,  it  is  manifest, 

1.  He  oveHooks  the  trevity  and  uncertain  contin- 
ua/nce  of  life.  Regarding  the  whole  of  his  existence, 
virtually  as  if  it  were  to  be  passed  in  this  world,  with- 
out the  interruption  of  death,  he  considers  wealth  as 
the  defence  against  all  evil,  and  the  guarantee  of  all 
good.  In  his  view,  possessing  enough  for  the  necessi- 
ties of  this  brief  period,  should  remove  all  anxiety 
about  the  interminable  period  beyond  it.  Every  pros- 
perous or  rich  man  would  avoid  this  fatal  mistake,  by 
saying  seriously  to  himself:  all  these  possessions  are 
mine  for  only  a  short  time  ;  they  are  to  be  taken  away 
from  me  in  a  few  years,  at  most ;  and  then  I  shall  have 
wants  which  they  could  not  supply,  if  I  still  were  mas- 
ter of  them.  But  the  course  of  the  most  is,  to  admit  in 
words,  the  transitoriness  of  their  possessions  ;  and  at 
the  same  time,  to  regard  them  as  unalienable  and  im- 
mortal. You  see  in  the  practical  deduction  this  man 
made  from  his  prosperous  condition,  that  he  had  found 


THE    RICH    FOOL.  4:6  i 

in  wealth  the  portion  of  his  sonl,  and  its  resting-place. 
Having  that,  there  was  now  nothing  more  to  do,  but 
to  enjoy  it.  If  he  had  toiled  to  acquire  it,  now  he  was 
to  find  repose.  If  he  had  denied  himself  many  luxu- 
ries, from  considerations  of  economy,  now  he  was  to 
take  off  all  this  restraint.  If  he  had  been  sad  in  his 
poverty  ;  anxious,  care-worn,  now  his  trials  were  ended  ; 
he  had  reached  the  only  heaven  he  could  understand, 
and  he  was  to  enjoy  it.  Had  it  been  revealed  to  him 
that  he  was  to  live  here  for  ever,  in  the  enjoyment  of 
wealth,  it  would  have  made  no  change  in  his  plans  ;  for 
he  in  his  heart  did  already  regard  the  "  many  years," 
which  appeared  to  lie  before  him,  as  an  eternity.  This 
is  the  folly  of  the  world.  It  does  not  belong  to  a  man 
because  he  is  rich ;  but  because  he  is  ungodly.  And 
the  ungodly  poor  man  would  have  the  same  sentiments, 
if  his  circumstances  were  changed.  The  jiossession  of 
wealth  is  a  real  good.  But  holding  it  as  an  immortal 
possession,  is  great  folly  for  him  who  is  soon  to  have 
only  an  undisputed  title  and  an  undisturbed  dwelling 
in  a  poor  ditch  of  clay  or  sand.  A  wise  man  who  is 
prosperous,  looks  to  the  end  of  his  stewardship ;  to  the 
poverty  and  nakedness,  the  darkness  and  solitude  of 
the  prison  his  body  is  soon  to  inhabit ;  and  to  the  wants 
of  his  undying  nature  in  that  awful  hour  when  it  goes 
forth  to  a  new  life,  a  new  world,  and  the  judgment-seat 
of  God.  "Wealth  becomes  a  weight  to  drag  the  soul  to 
perdition,  and  bind  it  there,  when  it  hinders  its  pos- 
sessor from  aspiring  to  the  riches  and  blessedness  of 
heaven. 

Men  deceive  themselves  greatly  in  supposing  they 
believe  in  their  own  mortality.  Generally,  a  man  is  con- 
trolled by  that  which  he  really  believes.     This  man  did 


43S  LECTUKE  xxvin. 

not  really  and  practically  regard  himself  as  mortal,  wliei 
lie  resolved  to  pull  down  liis  barns  and  build  greater. 
We  ascertain,  this,  not  from  his  resolution  ;  for,  that  in 
itself,  may  be  entirely  proper ;  but  from  the  purpose 
for  which  lie  does  it.  It  is  not  with  him  a  prudential 
arrangement,  properly  to  take  care  of  what  God  has 
intrusted  to  him  ;  but  a  selfish  provision  for  luxurious 
living  for  an  indefinite  period.  And  what  we  are  now 
particularly  remarking  in  the  case,  is,  his  entire  over- 
looking the  uncertainty  of  life.  If  the  man  had  said  : 
"  I  must  enlarge  my  granary,  because  this  property  is 
intrusted  to  me  ;  and  I  am  accountable  for  the  projier 
care  and  use  of  it,  to  him  who  owns  both  it  and 
me,"  he  would  have  spoken  with  Christian  wisdom. 
But,  as  it  was,  he  spoke  with  the  folly  of  ungodli- 
ness and  unbelief.  And  see  how  fearfully  his  folly 
was  demonstrated.  He  said  to  himself :  "  Soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years ;  take  thine 
ease."  But  God  reversed  all  that  sentence,  and  said  : 
"  Tliou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of 
thee."  Instead  of  building,  thou  shalt  be  buried  ;  in- 
stead of  luxurious  living,  thy  soul  shall  go  to  render  its 
accovmt,  and  enter  on  its  destiny.  "  This  night ;  "  in- 
stead of  years,  thou  hast  but  minutes  to  live ;  instead 
of  keeping  thy  soul  in  subjection  to  the  body,  it  shall 
be  required  of  thee.  In  the  Greek  it  is  :  "  They  shall 
require  thy  soul  of  thee."  Who  ?  Strong  executioners 
of  the  divine  will ;  messengers  that  take  no  denial ; 
death's  angels,  that  camiot  be  resisted.  What  a  com- 
ment is  this  on  the  inspired  saying  :  "As  the  j)artridge 
sitteth  on  eggs,  and  hatcheth  them  not,  so  he  that 
gathereth  riches,  and  not  by  right,  shall  leave  them  in 
the  midst  of  his  days,  and,  at  his  end,  shall  be  a  fool." 


THE    RICH    FOOL.  439 

Yet  this  folly  is  daily  perpetrated  in  tlie  worlc .  And 
moreover,  man,  in  this  shortsightedness,  overlooks 
another  consequence  of  his  mortality.     It  is  that 

2.  niches  accumulated  and  prised  solely  for  their 
owner,  must,  at  length,  T)e  transferred.  There  may  bo 
a  just  reference  to  our  families  and  others  dependent 
on  us,  in  increasing  our  property.  It  may  be  right  to 
use  it  ourselves,  and  leave  it  for  them  when  we  die. 
That  is  not  censured  here.  The  evil  exposed  is,  the 
exclusive  or  supreme  reference  to  our  own  ease  and  in- 
dulgence. And  the  folly  is  partly  seen  in  the  pungent 
appeal ;  "  Then,  whose  shall  those  things  be  which 
thou  hast  provided  ? "  It  is  not  a  case  of  prudent  pro- 
vision for  heirs,  that  the  Lord  here  holds  up  for  a  warn- 
ing. It  is  rather  the  accumulating  property,  supreme- 
ly or  solel}^  in  reference  to  one's  self,  and  without  refer- 
ence to  its  future  owners.  Tliere  may  be  pride  and  a 
selfish  clinging  to  Avealth,  even  in  the  case  of  one  pro- 
viding largely  for  the  wealth  of  his  heirs.  That,  how- 
ever, is  not  brought  to  view  in  the  parable.  Tliis  man 
cared  only  for  himself.  He  had  not  love  enough  to  live 
in  or  for  others,  or  to  derive  any  part  of  his  happiness 
from  the  anticipation  of  theirs.  What  a  vanity  then  is 
it  under  the  sun,  for  him  who  is  totally  indifierent  to 
the  prosperity  of  others,  who  can  see  no  value  in  pro- 
perty excepting  as  it  promotes  his  own  gratification,  to 
exult  in  the  possession  of  property  as  if  it  were  to  be  for 
ever  his,  when  it  is  so  certainly  to  be  transferred ;  and 
how  soon  he  knows  not,  to  other  hands  ! 

This  parable  is  forcible  ;  but  not  by  the  novelty  or 
profoundness  of  its  appeals.  Its  whole  force  lies  in 
calling  infatuated  man  to  think  on  what  lies  right  in 
his  path  ;  not  to  reason  pi-ofoundly  ;  but,  to  reflect  on 


440  LECTUEE    XXVIII. 

his  palpable  mistakes,  and  rectify  tliem  wliile  he- 
may. 

In  view  of  tliis  parable,  the  inquiry  may  very  prop- 
erly be  started : 

For  what  jpurjpose^  then,  is  wealth  hestowedf  And 
it  may  be  a  sufficiently  full  reply  in  this  connection,  to 
say  :  Among  other  ends,  it  is  given  as  a  test  of  charac- 
ter. It  tests  them  that  have  it,  and  them  who  have  it 
not ;  the  poor  ;  those  growing  rich  ;  the  rich  ;  and  those 
losing  their  possessions.  It  brings  to  light  our  relative 
estimate  of  time  and  eternity  ;  earth  and  heaven  ;  the 
soul  and  the  body  ;  God  and  self.  If  we  chiefly  prize 
our  lower  enjoyments ;  or,  if  we  set  time  before  eter- 
nity, and  earth  before  heaven  ;  or,  if  we  are  indifferent 
to  communion  with  God,  and  his  approbation,  then 
outward  prosperity  will  be  to  us  an  occasion  of  supreme 
satisfaction.  Then  we  shall  feel  our  foundations  strength- 
ening, and  our  prospects  brightening,  just  in  proportion 
as  our  grounds,  or  our  shops,  or  our  ships,  our  pen,  or 
our  hands  are  bringing  in  an  increase  of  fruits.  We 
have  here  but  one  life  ;  and  that  is  a  probation-life. 
Just  before  us  is  the  final  judgment ;  and,  beyond  that, 
endless  destiny.  In  this  brief  day  worldly  prosperity 
meets  us  ;  gold  glitters  at  our  feet ;  its  brilliant  streams 
are  running  into  our  coffers.  It  comes  for  many  pur- 
poses. But  one  of  them  is,  to  try  what  is  in  us,  and 
what  we  intend  to  cherish  in  us.  Our  estimate  of 
wealth,  and  the  use  we  make  of  it,  may  determine  for 
us,  both  the  sentence  of  the  last  day,  and  our  position 
in  the  future  state.  There  is  a  fearful  meaning  con- 
cealed in  the  mysterious  term  our  Redeemer  uses  : 
"  they  shall  require  thy  soul  of  thee."  "  Thou  hadst  a 
soul  to  be  washed  from  the  guilt  of  sin,  to  be  renewed 


THE    RICH    FOOL,.  441 

in  the  image  of  God.  Tliat  was  life's  great  biisiness. 
But  thou  hast  betrayed  that  trust ;  thou  hast  abandoned 
that  soul  for  fleeting  pleasures ;  and  now  the  patience 
of  heaven  is  exhausted.  The  ministers  of  its  justice 
will  come  this  night  and  require  of  thee  that  sacred 
trust." 

The  world  is  full  of  delusions.     All  worldly,  or 
God-neglecting  persons  deceive  themselves.     They  are 
doing  just  what  this  man  was  doing  ;  and  yet  they  see 
no  wrong  in  their  course,  and  no  danger.     Tliey  say  to 
themselves :  Can  any  thing  be  more  noble  than  an  up- 
right merchant,   any  thing  more   honorable  than  an 
honest  farmer  ?  is  not  commerce  the  artery  of  a  nation's 
life-blood  ?  are  not  abundant  harvests  and  prosperous 
voyages  fruits  of  God's  bounty  ?     And  from  the  obvious 
answers  they  make  to  all  these  inquiries,  they  leap  to 
the  conclusion  ;  therefore,  all  is  right  with  me.     God  is 
blessing  me  ;  men  have  a  growing  respect  for  me ;  and 
I  have  an  increased  satisfaction  with  my  earthly  lot ; 
Soul,  take  thine  ease,  thank  God,  and  enjoy  life.     But 
this  parable  interposes  an  obstacle  to  this  self-compla- 
cency, and  utters  its  stern  admonition.     Pause,  ere  you 
settle  down  upon  these  conclusions.     You  are  laboring 
under   some    capital   misapprehensions.      An  upright 
merchant  is  a  pillar  in  society  ;  an  honest  farmer  or 
mechanic  is  a  most  respectable  man  ;  wealth  is  a  gift 
of  God  ;  and  yet  it  may  be  true  that  your  views  of 
property  and  your  use  of  it  may  be  entirely  godless, 
selfish  and  ruinous.     You  refuse  to  look  at  your  mo- 
tives, and  to  compare  them  with  God's  requirements, 
and  so  remain  under  delusion.     Christ  condemns  nei- 
ther money,  the  acquisition  or  possession  of  it,  the  laws 
that  regulate  it,  nor  the  adjudication  of  questions  of 
19* 


442  LECTURE   XXVIII. 

property.  He  simply  exposes  the  worldling's  false  esti- 
mate of  riches,  and  the  tremendons  consequences  of  his 
errors.  He  does  not  condemn  prudence  and  fore- 
thought. But  he  does  condemn  a  prudence  that  looks 
only  to  earthly  enjoyment,  to  selfish  indulgence,  and  to 
godless  comfort.  And  nothing  can  be  more  dreary 
than  the  scene  which  his  graj)hic  words  open  on  the 
imagination.  "  This  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required 
of  thee  ;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou 
hast  provided  ?  "  Nothing  is  said  about  the  hour,  nor 
the  way  in  which  this  dread  requisition  shall  be  made. 
"  This  night ; "  in  the  hour  of  darkness  and  stillness 
thou  shalt  hear  the  rustling  wing  of  the  death-angel. 
"With  a  voice  piercing  where  no  other  voice  ever 
reached,  he  shall  say  :  "  I  am  come  for  thy  soul,  in  the 
name  of  the  Eternal  Judge."  And  it  shall  go  forth, 
leaving  the  body  ;  the  plate,  the  pictures  and  statues, 
the  deeds  and  mortgages,  the  vaults  stored  with  gold, 
the  precious  wines  stored  for  a  century  to  come.  Per- 
haps the  table  that  has  groaned  beneath  the  feast,  and 
resounded  with  the  merriment  of  thy  companions,  will 
be  still  standing  as  they  left  it.  The  soul  shall  go  forth 
at  that  stern  bidding.  There  he  leaves  it ;  separated 
from  all  it  loved ;  cut  off  from  the  only  source  of  its 
joys  ;  stripped  of  all  its  possessions  ;  blasted  in  all  its 
hopes.  Nothing  is  said  of  the  body.  And  of  the  pro- 
perty it  is  simply  said  :  Who  takes  it  now  ?  Signifi- 
cant inquiry.  It  was  all  pro\dded  for  one  ;  but  his  pru- 
dence is  at  fault,  for  another  takes  it.  And  the  soul 
goes  forth,  godless,  friendless,  impoverished  !  Perhaps 
one  of  those  heirs  will  put  a  monument  over  the  grave, 
and  write  his  virtues  on  its  face.  But  God  has  pre- 
pared his  epitaph  long  beforehand  :  "  Lo  !  this  is  the 


THE   KICH    FOOL.  443 

man  that  made  not  God  his  strength,  bnt  trasted  in  the 
abundance  of  his  riches."  And  Jesus,  on  another  oc- 
casion, went  still  further,  and  told  us  how  the  soul  of 
one  of  this  class  was  situated.  You  may  read  it  in  the 
16th  chapter  of  this  gospel.  The  only  difference,  if 
any,  in  the  earthly  history  of  the  two  men,  was  in  the 
manner  of  acquiring  their  property.  To  the  one  we  are 
introduced  just  in  the  process  of  acquisition.  He  be- 
came rich  by  the  products  of  a  farm.  The  other  we 
find  in  the  midst  of  possession.  The  one  is  described 
when  laying  out  his  plans  of  enjoyment ;  the  other,  in 
the  midst  of  his  pleasures.  Of  the  one  we  only  hear 
that  he  is  sentenced  to  die  in  a  few  hours.  The  other 
we  see  dying,  dead,  buried,  and  in  hell  lifting  up  his 
eyes  in  torment  and  in  hopeless  prayer.  He  is  re- 
ported to  have  done  nothing  very  bad,  in  the  world's 
estimation.  He  lived  for  himself,  and  to  enjoy  his 
wealth,  Tliis  is  the  worst  that  is  said  of  either.  And 
yet,  with  these  examples  before  their  eyes,  men  tread 
in  the  same  path,  repeat  the  same  experiment,  and  in- 
dulge the  hope  that  all  will  be  well  with  them.  Once 
more  then  the  finger  of  God  points  to  these  dreadful 
examples.     Once  more  His  voice  repeats  its  warnings. 

But  men  prospering  and  prospered  inquire,  if  things 
be  so, 

What  are  we  to  do  f  First  of  all,  put  that  inquiry 
honestly,  earnestly.  Then  listen  to  your  Creator,  for 
he  has  abundantly  answered  you.  First,  he  says  :  "If 
riches  increase,  set  not  your  heart  upon  them."  They 
have  a  certain  value  ;  but  they  are  not  your  portion, 
your  God,  nor  your  Saviour.  Now  is  the  time  to  be- 
ware of  plans  which  look  to  personal  ease  and  indul- 
gence.    K  the  body  is  growing  old,  and  the  mind  shar- 


444  LECTUKE  xxvin. 

ing  its  infirmities,  that  is  a  sufficient  reason  for  diniin- 
isliing  activity  ;  just  as  weariness  is  a  reason  for  going 
to  bed.  But  that  is  a  very  different  thing  from  count- 
ing on  the  luxury  of  sleeping  all  the  time,  for  the  mere 
enjoyment  of  repose.  It  may  be  best  for  some  to  retire 
from  the  activities  of  business  ;  but  it  is  best  for  no  one 
to  say  :  "Soul,  take  thine  ease,  eat,  diink,  and  be  mer- 
ry." But  above  all,  determine  to  use  your  property  so 
as  to  secure  the  highest  ends  of  which  it  is  capable. 
It  may  be  used  for  the  glory  of  God.  You  should  in- 
quire :  how  ?  It-may  be  used  for  the  eternal  good  of 
your  fellow-men.  The  channels  are  wide  open,  and 
many.  It  may  be  used  to  scatter  the  mists  of  poverty, 
to  dry  the  tear,  and  cheer  the  heart  of  many  a  needy 
fellow-creature.  Ambrose  beautifully  says  :  "  Thou 
hast  barns  large  enough  already ;  the  bosoms  of  the 
needy,  the  houses  of  widows,  the  mouths  of  orphans." 
It  may  be  used  for  your  own  highest  good ;  not  in  any 
thing  it  can  procure  for  you  directly ;  but  in  the  re- 
turns it  can  make  you  hereafter.  "  Provide  yourselves 
bags  which  wax  not  old,  treasure  in  the  heavens  which 
faileth  not."  We  may  sow  gold  here,  and  reap  in  eter- 
nity golden  crops  of  joy.  We  may  so  use  money  here 
as  to  strengthen  in  us  pure  and  noble  principles  and 
sentiments.  And  that  is  an  expenditure  which  will 
bring  in  eternal  dividends  We  may  so  use  property 
here,  as  to  meet  it  in  the  currency  of  heaven  multiplied 
a  thousand  fold.  But  let  none  here  make  the  silly  mis- 
takes which  even  religious  teachers  have  encouraged. 
And  to  guard  against  them,  I  need  merely  mention 
them  to  those  who  have  God's  "Word,  and  believe  its 
teachings.  No  man  can,  by  any  expenditure  of  money, 
atone  for  one  sin.     No  man  can  make  any  selfish  use 


THE    KICH    FOOL,  445 

of  a  part  of  his  property  riglit,  by  giving  away  anotlier 
part  for  good  purposes.  No  man  can  make  any  use  of 
his  money  that  will  do  him  any  good  after  death,  un- 
less he  be  a  penitent  believer  in  Christ,  and  his  faithful 
servant. 

This  is  a  parable  for  the  times.  Wealth  is  rolling 
in  floods,  upon  this  land.  America  will  probably  be- 
come the  richest  country  of  the  world.  This  will  then 
be  the  danger  to  our  people.  Prosperity  tries  men's 
souls  more  terribly  than  the  dark  periods  of  adversity 
and  poverty.  Let  the  rich  and  poor  man  each  say  to 
himself  to-day  :  "  Soul,  thou  hast  in  Christ  a  glorious 
and  eternal  portion ;  accept  him  to-day,  serve  him  faith- 
fully, and  wait  for  his  coming." 


LECTURE   XXIX. 

THE  TALENT    UNIMPROVED  ;    OR,  NEGLECTED  DUTT,  AND   ITS   CON- 
SEQUENCES. 

Matt.  xxa'.  14—31. — "  For  the  lingdom  of  heaven  is  as  a  man  travel- 
ling into  a  far  country,  who  called  his  own  servants,  and  delivered  unto 
them  his  goods.  And  unto  one  he  gave  five  talents,  to  another  two,  and 
to  another  one  ;  to  every  man  according  to  his  several  ability ;  and 
straightway  took  his  journey.  Then  he  that  had  received  the  five  talents 
went  and  traded  with  the  same,  and  made  them  other  five  talents.  And 
likewise  he  that  had  received  two,  he  also  gained  other  two.  But  he  that 
had  received  one  went  and  digged  in  the  earth,  and  hid  his  lord's  money. 
After  a  long  time  the  lord  of  those  servants  cometh,  and  reckoneth  with 
them.  And  so  he  that  had  received  five  talents  came  and  brought  other 
five  talents,  saying,  Lord,  thou  deliveredst  unto  me  five  talents  ;  behold,  I 
have  gained  beside  them  five  talents  more.  His  lord  said  imto  him.  Well 
done,  thoH  good  and  faithful  servant :  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few 
things,  I  wiU  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things :  enter  thou  into  the  joy 
of  thy  lord.  He  also  that  had  received  two  talents  came  and  said.  Lord, 
thou  deliveredst  unto  me  two  talents  :  behold,  I  have  gained  two  other 
talents  beside  them.  His  lord  said  unto  him.  Well  done,  good  and  faith- 
ful servant ;  thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee 
ruler  over  many  things  :  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  lord.  Then  he 
which  had  received  the  one  talent  came  and  said,  Lord,  I  knew  thee  that 
thou  art  a  hard  man,  reaping  where  thou  hast  not  sown,  and  gathering 
where  thou  hast  not  strewed  :  and  I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  thy 
talent  in  the  earth  :  lo,  there  thou  hast  that  is  thine.  His  lord  answered 
and  said  unto  him,  Thou  wicked  and  slothful  servant,  thou  knewest  that  I 
reap  where  I  sowed  not,  and  gather  where  I  have  not  strewed :  thou 
rughtest  therefore  to  have  put  my  money  to  the  exchangers,  and  then  at 


THE   TAI.ENT    UNIMrEOVED.  44'i 

my  coming  1"  should  have  received  miue  o\^ti  with  usury.  Take  therefore 
the  talent  from  him,  and  give  it.  unto  him  which  hath  ten  talents.  For 
unto  every  one  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  abundance  : 
hut  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath. 
And  cast  ye  the  unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness  :  there  shall  be 
weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his 
glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  thi'one 
of  his  glory." 

The  stoiy  of  the  Ten  Yirgins  immediately  iDrecedes 
this,  and  aims  to  illustrate  the  need  of  a  thorough  heart- 
work  in  religion.  This  illustrates  the  need  of  a  right 
course  of  outward  action,  that  we  may  meet  our  Lord 
in  peace.  As  a  narrative,  it  exhibits  to  us  an  Asiatic 
master  going  from  home,  and  intrusting  his  property 
to  his  servants.  They  were  probably  men  of  various 
capacities  ;  some,  skilful  artisans  ;  some,  good  farmers  ; 
and  others,  having  a  faculty  for  trade.  By  the  laws 
and  customs  of  the  country,  he  had  the  absolute  con- 
trol of  them  ;  and  the  right  to  exact  their  services.  He 
intrusted  to  them  various  sums,  according  to  their 
various  capacities.  On  his  return  he  called  them  to 
render  an  account  of  their  operations,  and  to  give  him 
the  profits  of  their  labor  and  skill.  Two  of  them  gave 
in  their  accounts  with  joy.  They  had  been  faithful  and 
successful.  They  received  not  only  approbation,  but 
also  very  high  rewards.  And  in  this  part  it  is  evident 
the  parable  was  not  broad  enough  to  cover  the  whole 
of  the  great  reahty  it  concealed.  For,  when  our  Lord 
comes  to  speak  of  the  reward  of  the  faithful,  and  the 
punishment  of  the  imfaithful  servants,  he  goes  beyond 
the  natural,  and  introduces  the  sujDernatural ;  he  drops 
the  person  of  an  earthly  lord,  and  presents  himself 
saying  to  his  faithful  servants  in  the  last  great  day  of 
trial :  "  Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful   servant ; 


448  LECTURE   XXIX. 

tliou  hast  been  faitliful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make 
thee  ruler  over  many  things  :  enter  thou  into  the  joy 
of  thy  Lord,"  And  so  in  the  severity  of  punishment 
upon  tlie  unfaithful  servant  we  see  the  same  anticipa- 
tion of  the  day  of  wrath. 

And  as  we  suj)j)ose  the  scope  of  this  parable  to  be 
this,  we  shall  confine  our  attention  to  the  unfaithful 
servant. 

I.  His  course  and  his  peestciples  illustrate  two 

CLASSES    OF   PERSONS. 

The  first  is  a  class 

1.  Who  intend  to  he  conscientious^  hut  not  religious. 
He  looked  sternly  at  one  aspect  of  his  duty.  He  thought 
of  dishonorable  men  who  had  abused  their  trust,  and 
appropriated  to  their  own  uses  property  committed  to 
their  care  ;  or,  squandered,  where  they  should  have  in- 
vested it.  But  he  was  resolved  not  to  imitate  them. 
Wlien  the  day  of  reckoning  should  come,  he  was  going 
to  appear  confidently  before  his  lord,  and  say  :  there, 
Lord,  thou  hast  that  is  thine.  And,  for  this  purpose, 
as  soon  as  it  was  intrusted  to  him,  he  carefully  wrapped 
it  up,  and  buried  it  in  the  earth.  But  his  honesty 
was  of  a  very  scant  pattern.  His  lord  had  claims  on 
more  than  that  sum  of  money.  His  right  extended 
also  to  the  value  of  that  money,  as  capital ;  and  to  all 
the  skill,  time,  and  labor  of  his  servant  to  make  it  ac- 
cumulate. Yet  in  his  purpose  to  be  honest,  he  over- 
looked all  that  claim,  and  thought  it  was  very  honest 
and  honorable  in  him  scrupulously  to  preserve  and  re- 
turn the  principal.  This  is  the  fatal  mistake  of  every 
honorable,  honest,  high-minded  man,  who  is  not  re* 
igious. 


THE   TALENT    UNIMriiOVED.  449 

God  made  man  capable  of  knowing,  loving,  and 
serving  liini.  Religion  is  just  as  much  what  man  was 
made  for,  as  bearing  fruit  is  the  end  for  which  a  fruit 
tree  was  created.  Serving  God,  communing  with  him, 
worshipping  him,  obeying  him,  laboring  for  man's  re- 
covery to  God,  praise  and  prayer,  exerting  our  powers 
to  spread  the  influence  of  religion,  is  just  as  much  what 
man  was  made  for,  as  shining  is  what  the  sun  was 
made  for.  Only,  the  sun  must  shine  ;  man  may  be 
irreligious  if  he  will. 

In  order  that  man  may  love  God,  he  has  a  heart ; 
he  has  also  an  eye,  an  ear,  and  a  thousand  wants,  all 
serving  as  channels  by  which  the  goodness  of  God 
comes  before  that  heart.  Now  the  man  that  purposes 
to  be  upright  and  conscientious  in  all  his  relations  to 
man,  and  thinks  that  will  answer  his  purpose  when 
called  to  the  great  account,  makes  a  radical  mistake, 
which  this  parable  is  designed  to  correct.  He  ought 
to  be  conscientious  and  upright ;  and  that  is  as  much 
better  than  fraud  and  dishonesty  as  this  man's  burying 
the  talent  M'as  better  than  squandering  it  would  have 
been.  But  it  will  not  meet  the  Lord's  requirements. 
Tlie  heart  is  a  talent ;  its  capacity  for  loving  God  is  a 
loan  to  be  used  according  to  the  will  of  God.  Then 
there  are  all  the  natural  powers,  by  which  the  love  of 
God  in  the  heart  would  manifest  itself,  and  so  create 
and  cherish  the  spirit  of  piety  in  other  hearts.  These 
ought  to  be  so  employed  by  each  as  to  bring  from  other 
human  beings  a  revenue  of  affection,  homage,  service 
and  praise  to  God.  Now  the  person  who  deliberately 
adopts  the  resolution  to  be  moral,  and  not  to  be  re- 
ligious, is  digging  in  the  earth  and  hiding  all  this  part 
of  his  Lord's  money.     He  makes  up  his  mind  that  lie 


450  LECTURE    XXIX. 

is  bound  to  be  an  lionest  man  ;  but  not  to  be  a  religious 
man,  or  to  exert  a  religious  influence.  It  may  be  the 
duty  of  old  men,  and  sick  people  and  dying  people  to 
be  religious  ;  but  be  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  nor  it 
with  him.  Ministers  ought  to  be  very  pious,  and  try 
to  make  other  people  so.  But  on  him  there  lies  no 
such  obligation.  In  not  being  religious  he  is  neglect- 
ing no  duty,  disregarding  no  responsibility,  violating 
no  obligation.  He  is  not  blasplieming  the  great  Being, 
nor  opj)Osing  his  will.  And  surely  he  can  meet  him 
and  say  ;  "  I  have  done  no  harm  in  the  world,  I  have 
met  my  responsibilities  ;  and  I  must  enter  heaven." 
Here  is  a  most  fatal,  most  culpable,  and  alas  !  a  most 
common  delusion.  Tlie  principle  is  false  ;  for  he  is  a 
wicked  and  slothful  servant,  and  buries  his  Lord's  money 
in  the  earth,  who  determines  to  be  moral,  but  not  re- 
ligious. He  takes  complacency  in  the  avoidance  of  one 
evil,  but  utterly  overlooks  the  still  greater  evil  of  which 
he  is  guilty. 

Another  class  is  represented,  and,  j)erhaps,  princi- 
pally by  this  servant. 

2.  They  intend  to  he  religious,  T)ut  not  Ijenevolent. 
Personal  religion  is  God's  best  gift.  And  when  he  be- 
stows it,  he  bestows  it  for  his  own  wise  ends  ;  and  he 
has  left  us  no  shade  of  an  excuse  for  misapprehending 
those  ends.  Ye,  says  Christ  to  religious  men,  "  Te  are 
the  light  of  the  world."  But  who  gave  them  light  ? 
"  God  hath  shined  into  their  hearts  to  give  them  light." 
But,  to  what  end  ?  "  No  man  lighteth  a  candle  to  put 
it  under  a  bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick,  that  it  may 
give  light  to  all  that  are  in  the  house."  Tlie  same 
truth  is  manifest  when  we  regard  the  very  nature  of 
piety.     It  is  not  merely  a  passport  to  another  and  bet« 


THE   TALENT   UNEMrEOVED.  451 

ter  world  than  tliis,  when  we  shall  be  dragged  away 
from  our  idols  in  this  world.  It  is  a  living  principle, 
feeble  in  its  beginnings,  but  definite  in  its  nature.  It 
is  love  to  God,  producing  love  to  man.  But  love  to 
man  must  be  patterned  after  Christ's.  His  was  a  self- 
abasing,  self-sacrificing,  systematic,  j)atient,  persevering, 
intelligent,  practical  love.  It  absorbed  his  affections, 
guided  his  powers,  employed  his  time,  dictated  his 
prayers  and  his  sermons  and  conversations.  Kow, 
when  any  one  purposes  to  be  religions,  but  not  to 
employ  his  faculties,  time,  wealth,  and  influence  to 
make  otlier  men  holy  and  liappy,  he  makes  a  fearful 
miscalculation.  His  purpose  to  save  himself,  and  save 
no  one  else,  is  a  pur]30se  not  to  do  as  badly  as  those 
who  neglect  their  eternal  interests.  But  it  is  at  the 
same  time,  and  equally,  a  purpose  to  appropriate  all 
his  powers  to  purely  selfish  ends,  whether  they  be  tem- 
poral or  eternal.  In  carrying  out  this  purpose  then, 
his  Lord's  talent  must  be  hid  in  the  earth.  He  has 
perhaps  a  clear,  penetrating  spirit,  admirably  adapted 
to  the  study  of  religious  truth,  and  a  power  to  explain 
and  make  it  clear  to  others.  But  so  far  as  the  Lord's 
end  is  concerned  in  the  employment  of  that  power,  it 
is  hidden  in  the  earth.  Oh,  who  that  for  a  moment 
looks  at  the  present  condition  of  society  among  us,  can 
fail  to  see  that  the  greater  portion  of  our  Lord's  projDer- 
ty  is  now  buried !  And  this  man  represents  a  very 
large  class,  because  there  is  so  little  power  yet  put  forth 
to  promote  true  religion  in  the  family,  the  social  circle, 
the  community  and  the  world, 
l^ow,  we  pass  to  notice, 

n.  The  condejVustation  of  this  servant. 

1.  His^lea  was  not  admitted.    It  was  the  pillow  on 


452  LECTURE   XXIX. 

which  his  conscience  had  always  slumbered  ;  it  was  the 
theology  of  his  creed ;  it  was  the  profoundest  deduction 
of  wisdom,  in  his  view ;  it  was  the  sermon  that  he  always 
preached  to  himself  when  conscience  became  unquiet. 
But  when  he  came  to  the  day  of  trial,  it  failed  him. 
It  satisfied  his  conscience,  but  did  not  satisfy  his  Judge. 
It  lasted  him  long  enough  to  prevent  his  doing  his 
duty  ;  but  it  did  not  stand  by  him  just  when  he  most 
wanted  it.  And  so  his  case  furnishes  a  striking  proof 
that  a  man  may  live  and  die  with  a  lie  in  his  right 
hand ;  and  that  we  have  to  adopt  religious  opinions, 
not  to  suit  ourselves,  but  to  satisfy  our  Judge.  And 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  here  designed  to  show  that  the 
tree  will  be  judged  by  its  fruits  ;  and  if  our  principles 
have  not  led  us  to  be  religious  or  godly,  and  benevolent, 
we  shall  be  condemned,  and  no  admission  be  given  to 
the  pleas  and  reasonings  that  may  have  quieted  our 
consciences  here.     But  we  have  also, 

2.  The  reasons  why  his  plea  was  rejected.  It  was 
rebellious.  It  involved  a  purpose  never  to  comply 
with  his  Lord's  wishes  and  requirements  ;  for  it  was 
founded  on  a  reason  that  will  be  as  true  and  satis- 
factory to-morrow  as  to-day,  and  for  ever.  And  so  will 
every  excuse,  plea  or  reason  given  for  not  obeying  God, 
be  regarded.  Can  the  Judge  of  heaven  and  earth 
admit  the  validity  of  a  reason  which  makes  rebellion 
against  his  authority  right  ?  If  any  one  makes  any 
excuse  or  apology  for  not  being  religious  or  benevolent, 
he  is  not  only  declaring  that  he  will  for  ever  use  his 
powers  selfishly,  but  that  it  will  for  ever  be  right  and 
reasonable  that  he  should.  This  lord  had  the  right  to 
require  his  servants  to  employ  their  time  and  powers 
in  making  money  for  him.     And  in  that  he  represents 


THE   TALENT   UNEMPEOVED.  453 

our  Maker,  wlio  lias  a  riglit  to  require  us  to  be  godly 
and  benevolent,  and  use  all  our  faculties  under  the  con- 
trol of  godliness  and  benevolence.  And  for  us  not  only 
to  refuse  to  do  so,  but  also  to  offer  reasons  for  this  refusal, 
is  confirmed  rebellion  ;  and  especially  when  those  rea- 
sons implicate  the  character  of  God.  "  I  knew  thee, 
that  thou  art  a  hard  man  ;  reaping  where  thou  hast  not 
sown,  and  gathering  where  thou  hast  not  strewed." 
This  is  absurd  reasoning.  But  any  moral  wrong  that 
tries  to  give  a  reason  for  itself,  must  make  an  absurd 
statement.  Is  he  a  hard  man  who  employs  other  men 
at  fair  wages  to  sow  in  his  fields,  because  he  reaps 
where  he  had  not  sown  ?  Is  he  necessarily  a  hard 
man  who  employs  his  servants  to  winnow  his  grain, 
and  then  gathers  where  he  has  not  scattered  ?  How 
many  hard  thoughts  do  men  entertain  of  God,  to  jus- 
tify themselves  for  not  serving  him  !  But  their  pleas 
and  reasonings  will  all  be  considered  rebellious  when 
they  appear  at  his  bar.  Is  God  requiring  of  us  what  it 
is  not  our  best  interest  to  do  ?  Is  he  gratifying  whims, 
or  indulging  prejudices,  or  selfishly  regardless  of  us  ; 
is  he  only  requiring  what  will  promote  his  own  inter- 
ests ?  This  is  what  all  secretly  think  of  him  who  do 
not  obey  him. 

Many  may  not  be  able  to  shape  the  secret  plea  with 
which  they  vindicate  themselves  to  their  own  conscien- 
ces for  not  being  actively  religious.  But  it  comes  to  this 
rebellious  principle,  be  it  what  it  may  :  I  am  not  bound 
to  serve  God ;  something  releases  me  from  the  obligation. 

But  this  plea  is,  moreover,  rejected,  because  it  is 
self-contradictory,  and  condemns  the  pleader.  This 
servant  admitted  all  facts  in  the  case.  Tlie  property 
was  committed  to  him,  with  the  expectation  that  he 


454  LECTUKE    XXIX. 

would  employ  it  in  his  master's  service.  Aud  the 
master  was  rigid  in  exacting  his  dues  The  man,  in 
view  of  these  facts,  says  :  "  and  I  was  afraid,  and  went 
and  hid  thy  talent  in  the  earth."  His  lord  said  that 
his  therefore  was  illogical.  All  these  things  are  true, 
"  therefore  thou  shouldst  have  put  my  money  to  the 
exchangers.  If  thou  hadst  such  a  fear  of  me  that  thou 
couldst  not  venture  to  trade  with  my  money,  then  thou 
shouldst,  at  least,  have  committed  it  to  the  exchangers, 
who  would  have  given  the  interest  at  least,  if  I  must 
fail  of  the  larger  profits  of  trade." 

The  same  pleas  are  heard  now,  at  least  in  mur- 
murs, if  not  in  bold  and  open  speech.  "  It  is  so  difficult 
to  be  religious  that  I  despair  of  it.  It  seems  to  me 
something  so  remote  and  intangible,  so  unattainable  by 
me.  I  ought  to  love  God  ;  but  he  seems  to  me  such  a 
cold,  stern  Being,  that  I  cannot  love  him,  nor  cordially 
speak  of  him  to  others."  ]SIow  what  does  God  in  fact 
demand  of  us  ?  Not  that  we  shall  never  have  sinned  ; 
not  that  we  shall  come  to  Christ  guiltless  and  perfect ; 
not  that  we  shall  omit  working  until  we  are  perfect,  but 
that  we  come  to  Christ  as  sinners,  and  because  we  are 
sinners,  that  we  consecrate  ourselves  to  the  service  of 
God  just  as  we  are  ;  that  we  work  with  a  sincere  inten- 
tion, and  with  an  humble  reliance  on  Christ  for  aid 
'and  for  acceptance.  It  is  therefore  a  hallucination  of 
our  own  wicked  hearts,  when  we  frame  such  a  concep- 
tion of  God  as  makes  us  say,  "  I  am  afraid  to  begin  to 
be  religious,  to  try  to  be  a  Christian."  But  we  see 
the  end. 

3.  Tliis  wiched  servant  was  cast  out.  First,  he  was 
dispossessed.  "  Take  away  the  talent."  Grace  unem- 
ployed is  like  grain  kept  too  long  in  the  granary.     It 


THE    TALEKT    UNIMPKOVED.  455 

rots,  and  wastes,  and  perishes  tlicre.  It  onght  to  bo 
out  in  the  great  veins  of  circulation,  scattered  on  the 
ploughed  earth,  or  turned  into  bread.  It  is  like  water 
that  ought  to  be  circulating ;  running  now  in  light, 
now  in  obscurity,  cleansing,  refreshing  and  blessing 
wherever  it  goes.  But  if  kept  too  long  stagnant,  it 
corrupts  and  perishes.  Augustine  beautifully  illustrates 
the  principle  that  gifts  increase  by  being  imparted  to 
others,  and  diminish  by  being  withholden.  He  applies 
to  it  the  story  of  the  widow  whose  poverty  the  prophet 
relieved  by  a  miracle.  "  The  oil  ceased  the  moment 
she  ceased  bringing  new  vessels  to  be  filled  with  it." 
So,  brethren,  charity  grows  as  long  as  it  imparts.  And 
BO  should  we  industriously  seek  for  vessels  into  which 
to  pour  our  oil ;  for,  the  more  we  pour  the  more  we 
have.  "  Charity's  vases  are  men."  The  process  of 
taking  away  from  the  man  that  hath  not  that  which  he 
hath,  and  giving  it  him  that  hath,  begins  even  in  this 
life.  The  powers  and  opportunity  of  godliness  and  of 
charity  are  all  to  be  taken  away  from  the  unprofitable 
servant.  And  he  is  to  be  cast  into  outer  darkness, 
where  are  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  That  is  the 
end  of  a  godless,  Christless,  and  selfish  life.  After 
being  dispossessed,  he  was  "  cast  into  outer  darkness." 

There  is  no  true  conmction  of  sin,  no  genuine  re- 
pentance until  we  see  the  evil  of  a  negative  goodness. 
Multitudes  are  resting  there,  in  the  interval  Avhile  the 
Lord  is  absent.  And  they  will  remain  so,  stupidly 
satisfied  with  their  buried  talent,  because  it  is  not 
squandered  or  spent  in  riotous  living.  This  veil  must 
be  taken  from  their  ej^es  if  tliey  are  to  mourn  over  sin 
and  forsake  it ;  and  begin  to  be  godly  througli  begin- 


456  LECTURE    XXIX. 

niiig  to  believe  in  Christ.  It  is  plain  from  tlie  Sacred 
Scriptures  that  we  all  are  sinners,  and  should  all  repent. 
But  some  very  well  disposed  persons  wonder  why  they 
cannot  repent.  If  their  sins  are  very  great,  they  can- 
not see  where  nor  why.  And  they  never  will,  so  long 
as  they  deny  their  obligations  to  be  as  religious  as  Paul, 
as  benevolent  as  Christ.  "  "What  wrong  have  I  ever 
done  ?  "  Turn  that  inquiry  :  "  What  right  thing  have 
I  ever  done  ? "  Your  talent  is  buried  in  the  eartli ; 
that  is  your  sin,  God  and  man  are  losing  all  the  profits 
it  would  bring  if  rightly  employed.  To-day  he  is  look- 
ing for  a  tribute  of  childlike  love  from  your  heart ;  for 
penitential  soitow,  for  praise  and  thanksgiving.  To- 
day Christ  looks  for  some  return  of  gratitude  for  his 
wondrous  love  and  sacrifices,  and  the  immeasurable 
blessings  he  has  procured  for  you.  And  you  have  a 
heart  full  of  afitctions  ;  but  it  is  buried.  You  are  not 
as  bad  as  you  might  be,  or  as  some  other  persons  ;  but 
you  will  be  rejected,  stripped  of  your  powers  and  op- 
portunities to  be  good  and  do  good,  and  cast  into  outer 
darkness,  unless  you  repent.  "  Of  what  have  I  to 
repent  ? "  A  godless,  Christless,  selfish,  worldly  life. 
You  ought  to  have  been  a  Christian  long  ago  ;  fervent, 
advancing,  useful.  Tlie  light  of  a  godly  example,  the 
power  of  religious  instruction  and  persuasion,  of  private 
and  social  prayer,  should  all  have  been  employed  by 
you  for  the  good  of  your  family  and  your  neighbors. 
But  your  Lord's  talent  is  buried  in  the  earth.  If  you 
cannot  see  this,  then  you  cannot  repent ;  and  you  must 
go  on  voluntarily  blindfolded,  until  the  light  of  that 
dread  interview  make  the  truth  manifest  to  you. 
Thousands  ought  this  day  to  be  weeping,  who  are 
self-complacent ;    thousands   of  our   Master's  servants 


THE   TALENT    UNIMPROVED.  457 

ought  to  be  seen  busily  engaged  digging  up  their 
buried  talents,  and  availing  themselves  of  the  little 
sjDace  still  left  for  repentance  and  its  fruits.  Thousands 
have,  as  it  were,  written  their  apology  or  plea,  and 
sealed  it  for  the  judgment.  They  should,  this  very 
day,  break  open  those  seals,  and  re-examine  those  pleas 
in  the  light  of  this  parable.  "  What  is  my  reason  for 
not  being  godly  and  Christlike  ;  why  am  I  not  a  de- 
cided and  earnest  Christian  ?  Why  are  not  my  powers 
all  employed  to  promote  godliness  in  myself  and 
others  ? "  To  this  inquiry  there  is  an  answer.  If  that 
answer  satisfies  your  conscience,  you  are  deceived.  If 
not,  it  will  not  satisfy  your  Judge ;  nor  yourself,  when  the 
illusions  of  time  have  ceased.  There  is  no  good  reason  ; 
there  can  be  noue.  Therefore  it  is  unreasonable  and 
wicked.  You  ought  to  be  trading  with  your  Lord's 
money  ;  and  if  you  cannot,  then  you  ought,  at  least,  to 
put  it  out  to  the  exchangers. 

This  portion  of  the  parable  has  also  a  reference  to  a 
class  of  true  Christians,  and  utters  its  instructions  and 
warnings  to  them. 

Memhers  of  the  Church  are  here  cautioned  against  an 
evil  to  which  tliey  are  exposed.  Their  powers  are  par- 
alyzed by  fear.  Some  are  driven  to  monasteries  by  it. 
They  would  serve  God  in  this  world  if  they  could. 
But  he  exacts  of  them  more  than  they  with  their  in- 
firmities can  render,  surrounded  by  the  temptations  of 
the  world.  Therefore  they  must  retreat  and  bury  many 
of  their  powers  in  a  holy  retirement.  Many  a  young 
man  shrinks  from  serving  his  Lord  in  the  ministry  ; 
many  a  father  refuses  to  pray  with  his  family  ;  many  a 
member  of  the  church  refuses  to  engage  in  active  exer- 
20 


458  LECTUKE    XXLX. 

tions  to  promote  religion.  And  their  reasons  are  all 
summed  up  in  this  :  "  I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid 
thy  money."  To  all  these  persons  many  things  may  be 
admitted.  It  is  true  that  you  are  not  worthy  of  God's 
favor  ;  that  he  has  not  given  you  as  many  talents  as  to 
some  others ;  that  without  his  grace  you  can  do  nothing. 
But  then  it  must  be  added :  you  are  required  to  do 
only  what  is  adapted  to  the  faculties  he  has  imparted  ; 
that  his  grace  is  sufficient  for  you  ;  and  thus  that  grace 
can  be  had  for  asking.  Brethren,  be  not  deceived  ;  if 
we  are  neglecting  any  duty,  or  shrinking  from  any  post 
of  usefulness  to  which  our  Master  is  calling  us,  it  is  but 
a  mock  humility  that  refuses  to  go ;  there  is  in  our 
fear  a  mixture  of  selfishness  and  unbelief,  which  is  very 
offensive  to  God.  "  I  feared  thee,  because  thou  art  a 
hard  master."  What  language  for  us  to  employ,  even 
in  our  hearts,  to  Christ  ?  How  many  are  made  power- 
less in  the  Church  by  this  false  humility  !  It  makes 
her  an  army  composed  mostly  of  crippled  soldiers.  One 
has  bandaged  his  eye  ;  another  has  wrapped  his  arm  in 
a  sling  ;  another  has  put  his  feet  in  soft  coverings  lest 
they  should  be  injured  by  the  rough  places  of  the 
battle-field.  Where  are  the  active,  enterprising  traders 
who  are  joyfully  looking  for  their  Master's  return,  when 
they  may  say,  "  Here  Lord,  thy  five  talents  have  gained 
five  more  ;  thy  two  talents  have  gained  two  ?  "  Where 
are  the  soldiers  all  equipped,  and  encamped,  ready  to 
do  battle  for  their  absent  Eng  ?  Alas !  the  cowards 
and  compromisers,  how  they  have  reduced  the  efficient 
strength  of  the  army. 

Brethren,  let  us  be  reminded,  the  Lord  is  coming  I 


LECTUKE  XXX. 

THE  "WEDDING  OF  THE   PKINCE  ;  OE,  A  SOUL  UNFIT  FOE  HEAVEN 

Matt.  xxir.  1-14.  "  And  Jesus  answered  and  spake  unto  them  again 
by  parables,  and  said,  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  certain  king, 
which  made  a  marriage  for  his  son,  and  sent  forth  his  servants  to  call  them 
that  were  bidden  to  the  wedding  :  and  they  would  not  come.  Again,  he 
sent  forth  other  servants,  saying.  Tell  them  which  are  bidden  ;  Behold  I 
have  prepared  my  dinner :  my  oxen  and  my  fatlings  are  killed,  and  all 
things  are  ready  :  come  unto  the  marriage.  But  they  made  light  of  it, 
and  went  their  ways,  one  to  his  farm,  another  to  his  merchandise  :  And 
tlie  remnant  took  his  servants,  and  entreated  them  spitefully,  and  slew  them. 
But  when  the  king  heard  thereof,  he  was  wroth  :  and  he  sent  forth  his 
armies,  and  destroyed  those  murderers,  and  burned  up  their  city.  Then 
saith  he  to  his  servants.  The  wedding  is  ready,  but  they  which  were  bidden 
wei'e  not  worthy.  Go  ye  therefore  into  the  highways,  and  as  many  as  ye 
shall  find,  bid  to  the  marriage.  So  those  servants  went  out  into  the  high- 
ways, and  gathered  together  all  as  many  as  they  found,  both  bad  and  good  : 
and  the  wedding  was  furnished  with  guests.  And  when  the  king  came  in 
to  see  the  guests,  he  saw  there  a  man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding  gar- 
ment ;  And  he  saith  unto  him.  Friend,  how  earnest  thou  in  hither,  not  hav- 
ing a  wedding  garment  ?  And  he  was  speechless.  Then  said  the  king  to 
the  servants.  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away,  and  cast  him 
into  outer  darkness ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  For 
many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen." 

This  parable  shows  both  the  gentleness  and  severity 
of  our  Saviour.  Its  main  scope  we  have  already  con- 
sidered, as  it  is  embodied  in  two  others.     I  therefore 


4:60  LECTURE    XXX. 

propose  to  notice  here  only  the  last  member  of  it,  the 
case  of  the  gnest  not  clothed  in  an  appropriate  garment ; 
while  the  many  reject  these  ofiers  of  mercy  and  pro- 
visions of  grace,  of  those  who  appear  to  accept  them, 
here  and  there  one  fails  of  eternal  life. 

The  eternal  God  has  provided  a  banquet  for  our 
race.  It  is  a  festival  for  the  soul ;  the  company  it  as- 
sembles is  the  elite  of  the  empire  ;  the  conversation  of 
the  guests  is  the  most  exalting,  enlightening,  and  re- 
freshing ;  the  board  is  spread  with  all  that  can  gratify 
the  spiritual  appetite  of  man,  and  invigorate  his  spirit- 
ual affections  and  powers.  To  that  feast  the  bounteous 
provider  invites  men,  all  men ;  nay,  urges  them  to 
come.  Nothing  can  be  more  free  and  cordial.  But 
there  is  a  twofold  perversion  of  this  fact.  Some  get 
the  impression  that  the  lung  is  so  good-natured  and 
easy,  he  will  not  be  very  much  offended  if  they  should 
slight  his  invitation.  Others  regard  it  as  a  matter  of 
no  great  difficulty  to  take  a  seat  at  that  tal)le,  and 
suitably  to  occupy  it. 

To  guard  against  this  latter  misapprehension  par- 
ticularly, the  history  of  the  guest  not  suitably  attired 
was  introduced  into  the  parable.  It  is  probable  that 
the  Saviour  here  made  allusion  to  a  custom  which,  in 
part,  still  exists  in  Oriental  countries  ;  that  of  the  kings 
providing  splendid  robes  as  presents  for  their  guests. 
Chardin  relates  a  case  much  in  point.  He  not  only 
states  that  the  king  of  Persia  expends  an  incredible 
sum  for  sumptuous  garments  as  presents  to  his  guests  ; 
but  also  mentions  the  case  of  a  vizier  to  whom  the  king 
had  sent  a  rich  garment.  An  enemy  of  the  vizier 
changed  the  robe  for  a  plain  one.  This  the  vizier  took 
as  a  proof  of  his  sovereign's  displeasure,  and  refused 


THE    WEDDING    OF   THE    PRINCE.  461 

accordingly  to  aj^pear  in  the  streets  in  it.  His  wearing 
another  robe  than  that  the  king  gave  him  cost  him  his 
life.  We  find  in  the  Scripture  history  many  instances 
of  rulers  presenting  beautiful  garments.  Joseph  gave 
changes  of  raiment  to  all  his  brethren.  Jonathan  gave 
his  robes  to  David.  Ahasuerus  gave  Mordecai  gar- 
ments of  fine  linen  and  purple,  a  great  crown  of  gold, 
and  royal  apparel  of  blue  and  white.  So  the  father  of 
the  Prodigal  Son  is  described  by  the  Saviour  as  com- 
manding the  best  robes  to  be  put  upon  him.  The 
garment  for  great  wedding  occasions  was  a  long  white 
robe,  variously  and  richly  ornamented. 

When  the  guests  had  all  entered  the  banqueting- 
hall,  and  taken  their  places,  the  royal  entertainer  came 
in  to  see  them  and  share  their  happiness.  But  his  eye 
at  once  fell  upon  one  who  dishonored  the  occasion  and 
the  host,  by  an  unsuitable  dress.  No  people  are  more 
rigid  in  their  etiquette  than  the  inliabitants  of  Asia. 
Want  of  compliance  with  established  modes  of  express- 
ing respect  is,  in  their  view,  among  the  greatest  of 
crimes.  Tlie  king  approached  the  man,  and  appealed 
to  him  for  an  explanation  of  his  appearing  there  in  an 
unsuitable  dress.  "  Friend "  is  a  more  ambiguous 
term  in  English  than  iraipe  in  Greek.  Our  word 
"  Sir "  is  nearer  to  it.  "  Sir,  what  dost  thou  here 
without  a  wedding  garment  ?  "  When  Cicero  the  great 
Roman  lawyer  is  censuring  Vatinius,  he  lays  much 
stress  on  his  having  appeared  at  a  great  and  solemn 
festival,  clothed  in  black.  "  Whoever,  even  in  a  time 
of  domestic  grief,"  he  demands,  "  appeared  at  a  supper, 
thus  arrayed  in  black !  "  Imagine,  then,  an  Oriental 
royal  feast,  and  all  the  guests  seated  in  a  sumptuous 
hall ;  each  one  having  over  his  own  dress  a  splendid 


4:62  LECTURE    XXX. 

robe,  which  the  king  had  furnished ;  each  thus  ac 
knowledging  the  king's  kindness ;  receiving  it,  and 
wearing  it  as  a  token  of  his  own  regard  for  the  king ; 
and  thus  gratifying  the  king's  taste  by  giving  the  whole 
scene  just  such  an  appearance  as  he  desires.  But  there 
is  one  exception.  One  man  has  come  there  in  a  differ- 
ent mood.  What  it  is  we  are  not  informed  ;  whether 
he  wished  to  exhibit  his  own  dress,  or  to  insnlt  others 
for  being  dependent  on  the  king  for  their  dresses  ;  or, 
if  it  were  mere  negligence  and  indifference  to  the  host's 
wishes,  we  are  not  told.  But,  whatever  the  reason  was, 
when  challenged  by  the  king,  he  was  confounded  ;  for, 
the  enormity  of  his  conduct  then  flashed  npon  him. 
It  was  not  only  an  act  of  personal  insult  to  a  royal  per- 
sonage, but  also  a  proclamation  of  rebellion  against  his 
sovereign.  Immediately  the  case  is  treated  so.  The 
diakonoi  (not  the  douloi,  or  house-servants,  wlio  carried 
out  the  invitations  to  the  feast)  are  commanded  to  seize 
him,  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  so  that  there  could  be 
neither  resistance  nor  escape  ;  and  cast  him  out  of  the 
king's  presence,  out  of  the  hapj^y  circle,  out  of  the 
brilliant  scene  into  darkness,  outer  darkness,  where 
there  is  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

Here  are  serious  instructions  from  the  lips  of  our 
gracious  Redeemer  and  teacher.  Wliat  do  we  find 
represented  in  this  part  of  the  parable  ?  As  one  has 
vigorously  described  it,  here  is  the  solemn  inspection, 
the  unanswerable  challenge,  and  the  awful  excom- 
munication.    We  look,  first,  at 

I.  The  false  hope  indulged. 

It  matters  not  whether  the  person  be  in  the  church 
or  out  of  it ;  whoever  indulges  the  hope  that  he  will 


THE    WEDDING    OF   'J'H]':    PRINCE.  463 

enter  upon  the  blessedness  of  lieaven  at  death,  or  after 
death,  is  here  represented  as  sitting  at  the  King's  feast. 
Whoever  has  a  well  founded  hope  is  represented  by  the 
suitably  clad  guests.  Whoever  has  an  unfounded  hope, 
is  represented  by  the  man  without  a  wedding  garment. 
What  is  then  the  present  difference  between  the  two  ? 
Both  expect  to  receive  the  King's  favor.  One  has  ac- 
cepted the  provisions  of  grace  ;  the  other  has  not.  We 
are  informed  that  at  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb 
tlie  guests  sit  in  white  linen  robes  ;  and  that  linen  is 
righteousness.  But  it  is  righteousness,  not  native  or 
natural ;  not  inherent  nor  purchased.  It  is  a  gift ;  a 
gift  of  royal  munificence.  Whoever  has  not  received 
it,  and  put  it  on  himself,  is  an  unwelcome  guest.  No 
guest  is  reproached  for  having  lived  in  poverty,  or  the 
company  of  plain  people.  No  one  is  censured  for 
coming  in  to  the  royal  presence  from  the  hut  of  pover- 
ty or  the  cabin  on  the  highway.  It  is  not  inquired 
whether  you  were  bad  or  goo  i  before  you  entered ; 
for  the  servants  had  orders  to  go  into  the  highways,  and 
gather  together  as  many  as  they  found,  bad  and  good. 
That  is  just  what  distinguishes  this  royal  banquet  from 
all  others. 

The  Gospel  describes  two  kinds  of  righteousness  as 
belonging  to  those  it  c  lis  saints.  They  are  not  only 
distinguished  by  the  two  terms,  justification  and  sancti- 
fication,  but  whole  sections  of  the  New  Testament  are 
founded  upon  the  difference.  The  most  striking  in- 
stance is  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Komans.  The  first  five 
chapters  are  occupied  with  discussing  the  first  form  of 
righteousness  ;  showing  that  no  man  possesses  it  na- 
turally. The  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth  chaj3tere  discuss 
the  second  form  of  ''ighteousness,  or  sanctification.    The 


464  LECTURE    XXX. 

Bible  insists  on  the  two  as  indispensable  to  man's  salva 
tion.  It  declares  that  the  one  cannot  exist  without  the 
other.  And  yet  it  insists  that  justification  j^recedes  sane 
tification ;  in  other  words,  that  a  man  must  be  forgiven 
and  reconciled  to  God  before  he  can  begin  to  be  radi- 
cally renewed.  The  man  without  the  wedding  garment 
then  rej)resents  the  person  who  professes  or  believes 
that  he  is  reconciled  to  God,  who  has  not  God's  right- 
eousness. 

Their  hope  may  then  be  designated, 

1.  A  self-righteous  hope.  "  He  that  believeth  shall 
be  saved.  He  that  believeth  in  me  hath  everlasting; 
life."  But  what  must  we  believe  about  Christ,  and 
how  believe  in  him  ?  We  must  believe  about  him, 
that  "  He  who  knew  no  sin  was  made  sin,  or,  a  sin- 
oifering  for  us,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteous- 
ness of  God  in  him."  That,  however,  is  not  belief  in 
him,  though  essential  to  it.  The  demons  believe  as 
much  as  that.  But  believing  in  Christ  is  called  putting 
on  Christ ;  being  in  him  as  the  branch  is  in  the  vine, 
and  the  limb  in  the  body.  "  There  is  no  condemnation 
to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus."  Believing  in  Christ 
is  coming  to  him  in  our  sins  and  guilt,  having  no 
plea  nor  price  ;  condemned,  helpless,  undone.  This  is 
called  "  buying  wine  and  milk,  without  money  and 
without  price."  This  is  what  is  meant  by  the  poor  and 
miserable,  and  blind,  and  naked,  buying  of  Christ  fine 
gold  tried  in  the  fire,  white  raiment,  and  anointing 
salve  for  the  eyes.  This  is  the  poor,  and  halt,  and 
maimed  coming  in  from  the  hedges  and  highways  to 
the  King's  feast,  to  be  clothed  and  adorned  frojn  his 
wardrobe,  and  feasted  at  his  expense.  All  who  thus 
oome  are  thrice  weloome.     Christ  "  came  not  to  call 


THE    WEDDING    OF   THE    PEINOE.  465 

the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance."     He  came 
"  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  is  lost." 

Here  the  pride  of  man  revolts.  Many  see  that  they 
must  be  religious.  All  desire  their  own  welfare  here 
and  hereafter.  But  they  are  unwilling  to  see  them- 
selves to  be  detestable  in  God's  sight,  condemned  by 
his  holy  law,  and  utterly  ruined.  Tliat  is  the  stone 
of  stumbling  and  rock  of  oifence,  probably  with  the 
greater  portion  of  those  T,vrlio  hear  the  Gospel.  The 
pride  of  the  heart,  which  does  not  keep  them  from 
being  sinners,  makes  them  averse  to  knowing  that  they 
are  such.  And  there  is  a  fear  also  of  discovering  our 
hopeless  condition,  because  the  soul  must  be  over- 
whelmed with  despair  to  see  that,  and  yet  not  see  that 
Christ  saves  the  lost.  I  am  afraid  that  the  majority 
who  reflect  seriously  on  religion,  stumble  there ;  and 
especially  in  a  community  where  this  radical  feature 
of  the  Gospel  is  abandoned,  oj)posed,  hated,  caricatured 
and  vilified.  Many,  many  are  at  the  King's  feast  in  a 
raiment  of  righteousness  brought  from  their  own  ward- 
robe ;  nay,  woven  on  their  own  loom.  They  are  up- 
right, honorable,  kind,  intelligent ;  but  they  are  not 
clothed  in  the  King's  garment.  Tliey  believe  about 
Christ,  but  they  do  not  believe  in  him.  Tliey  expect 
to  be  saved,  because  they  are  sanctified.  With  them 
justification  is  founded  on  sanctification.  They  are 
pardoned  because  they  are  good  ;  whereas  in  the  king- 
dom of  God  it  is  just  the  reverse.  The  whole  argu- 
ment of  the  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth  chapters  of  Ro- 
mans, is  to  establish  the  fact  that  there  is  no  real  sanc- 
tification that  does  not  begin  in  justification.  We  are 
first  forgiven  for  Christ's  sake  ;  we  first  wash  our  robes, 
and  make  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ;  and 
20* 


4c66  LECTUKE   XXX. 

tlien  we  feel  tlie  jDOwer  of  liis  cross  to  sanctify  our 
hearts.  We  are  not  forgiven  because  we  are  not  guilty, 
or  because  our  guilt  is  light.  On  the  contrary,  where 
sin  abounds  grace  superabounds.  Abraham  believed 
God,  and  it  was  counted  to  him  for  righteousness.  The 
Ethiopian  eunuch  believed  Christ  and  in  Christ,  and 
was  then  baptized.  A  man  may  be  in  the  Church  and 
not  be  in  Christ.  He  has  never  gone  out  of  himself,  as 
regards  the  exercise  of  his  confidence  ;  out  of  his  own 
goodness  and  competency  to  meet  the  claims  of  Grod's 
law.  He  has  never  built  on  this  Rock  of  Ages.  A 
man,  he  thinks,  may  be  very  sure  that  God  will  never 
cast  off  one  of  so  blameless  a  life  as  he  leads  ;  and  yet 
God  must  cast  him  off  or  falsify  the  Gospel,  annihilate 
the  cross  of  Christ  and  redemption,  and  destroy  the 
foundation  of  patriarchs,  prophets,  apostles,  saints,  and 
the  whole  Church. 

Justification  is  through  a  righteousness  not  our  own. 
Our  own  righteousness  comes  from  strict,  perfect,  and 
uninterrupted  obedience  to  law.  But  God  has  declared 
tliat  no  man  is  justified  by  the  deeds  of  the  law.  Then 
every  one  makes  him  a  liar,  who  believes  any  of  these 
popular  notions,  and  repeats  this  cant  of  unbelief:  "  Will 
God  send  so  amiable  and  upright  a  person  as  A  or  B 
to  hell  ?  will  God  damn  me  for  ever  for  the  few  faults 
I  commit  in  this  short  life  !  I  have  never  done  any  thing 
very  bad." 

All  who  say  and  feel  these  sentiments  refuse  the 
King's  garment,  and  yet  they  go  to  the  feast.  Tliey 
hope  to  be  saved  by  justice,  not  by  grace  ;  because  it 
would  be  unjust  in  God  to  cast  them  into  outer  dark- 
ness, where  is  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

Besides  this  self-righteous  hope,  there  is  also, 


THE    WEDDING    OF   THi;    PKLNCE.  467 

2.  An  invpenitent  Jiojye.  Somo  men  are  impenitent, 
because  they  sin  against  their  consciences  ;  and  some, 
because  they  have  brought  their  consciences  over  to 
their  sins.  Sin  and  holiness  are  respectively  the  deep- 
est elements  of  our  being  ;  and  therefore  can  be  under- 
stood fully  only  by  the  profoundest  knowledge,  both  of 
what  we  are  and  what  we  ought  to  be.  Some  sins  lie 
out  on  the  surface  of  character  and  the  life.  And  who- 
ever is  sinning  wilfully,  while  hoping  for  salvation,  is 
at  the  King's  table  without  the  wedding  garment.  In 
such  cases  it  is  not  difficult  to  produce  conviction,  and 
destroy  the  delusive  hope.  But  multitudes  sit  com- 
fortably at  that  feast,  waiting  the  King's  entrance,  who 
have  not  on  the  robe  of  sanctification.  They  have 
never  begun  to  put  off  sin  as  sin.  They  have  corrected 
their  evil  tempers,  conformed  themselves  to  a  worldly 
morality,  Mhich  is  Godless,  Christless,  and  sellish.  But 
they  have  never  begun  to  love  God,  and  to  love  their 
neighbor.  Such  persons  have  never  been  truly  con- 
victed of  sin,  of  the  radical  defect  of  their  whole  char- 
acter. They  have  no  right  conceptions  of  the  holiness 
of  God.  They  have  no  skill  to  detect  the  subtle  work- 
ings of  pride.  Hence  they  never  repent  of  their  heart- 
sins,  and  they  never  feel  their  need  of  a  Redeemer,  nor 
come  to  him,  to  be  crucified  with  him  to  sin  in  all  its 
forms. 

To  contemplate  the  multitudes  who  hear  the  Gospel 
with  respect,  and  yet  remain  strangers  to  the  first  steps 
of  salvation,  is  most  painful,  and  makes  the  believer 
exclaim,  "  Lord,  open  thou  their  eyes,  that  they  may 
see."  If  the  process  of  a  radical  sanctification  of  the 
heart  is  not  begun  here,  we  shall  never  become  holy. 
We  may  sit  at  the  King's  table  until  he  comes  in. 


468  LECTURE    XXX. 

But  then  lie  will  say,  "  Friend,  what  cloest  thou  here  ?" 
And  when  he  comes,  then  you  will  be  speechless.  Nom' 
you  have  many  things  to  say  for  yourself ;  then  you 
will  be  struck  dumb. 

Let  us  look  at  this  terrible  sight. 

II    The  soul  stripped  of  its  hope  akd   its  pee- 

TENSIOJifS. 

1.  Here  is  the  dtimhness  of  t/rue  conviction.  In  this 
world  men  generally  walk  in  dense  spiritual  darkness. 
Judgment  slumbers,  and  therefore  conscience  sleeps. 
Tlie  being,  character,  and  law  of  God  are  kept  out  of 
sight.  This  is  permitted,  because  we  are  in  probation. 
But  the  King  is  soon  coming ;  every  thing  proclaims 
it.  We  are  to  see  him,  and  to  be  inspected  by  him. 
He  will  look  at  us,  to  see  how  we  are  dressed  for  the 
marriage  feast.  And  in  that  presence,  and  under  that 
flaming  eye  conscience  must  fully  awake.  Our  Judge 
will  look  for  righteousness ;  both  imputed  and  per- 
sonal, he  says.  And  if  we  have  them  not  conscience 
will  know  it,  and  there  will  be  no  reply  to  that  dread 
appeal,  "  How  cainest  thou  in  hither,  not  having  on  a 
wedding  garment  ?  "  There  the  magnitude  of  sin  will 
be  seen,  because  all  false  standards  are  removed.  You 
have  there  to  deal  with  God,  There  the  sin  of  impeni- 
tence and  unbelief  will  be  seen  to  be  very  heinous.  A 
poor  peasant  is  invited  from  the  highways  to  become 
the  King's  guest ;  only  being  required  to  put  on  a  gar- 
ment which  the  King  furnishes.  But  instead  of  that 
the  clownish  peasant  rushes  rudely  in,  in  his  vile  gar- 
ments, to  take  his  place  at  the  royal  banquet ! — Pre- 
sumptuous hope  !  No  excuse  will  then  be  offered ; 
for,  it  will  then  be  seen  +hat  the  wedding  garment 


THE    WEDDING    OF   Tlffi    PKINCE.  469 

raiglit  have  been  procured  ;  ought  to  have  been.  Grace 
and  salvation,  were  once  within  reach ;  to  be  had  for 
asking ;  to  be  had  by  accepting !  But  the  wretched 
soul  preferred  to  life  itself  the  name  of  living.  Nothing 
can  be  more  voluntary  than  this  insincere  life  of  im- 
penitence while  hoping  for  heaven.  Sin  was  preferred 
to  holiness,  while  the  excellence  of  holiness  was  ac- 
knowledged. Tlie  world  was  preferred  to  Christ,  under 
a  full  conviction  that  Christ  is  infinitely  more  to  be  de- 
sired than  all  other  good.  Appearances  have  been  set 
above  realities  ;  shadows  above  substance ;  the  name 
of  piety  above  piety  ;  the  hope  of  heaven  above  a  fit- 
ness for  it.  There  will  then  be  no  avoiding  the  blame 
of  self-deception  and  self-destruction.  Salvation  was 
offered  sincerely.  The  wedding-garment  might  have 
been  procured  ;  it  was  offered,  urged  upon  him.  Then 
the  insincerity  of  all  excuses  and  pleas  will  be  manifest. 
The  fashionableness  of  impenitence  will  then  appear 
but  the  more  dreadful.  "  Yes,"  must  each  self-con- 
demned soul  exclaim,  "  I  had  light  enough,  opportuni- 
ties, motives  sufficient." 

This  speechlessness  will  also,  in  part,  be  occasioned 
bv, 

2.  Amazement.  The  insincere  professor,  and  the 
person  carelessly  indulging  a  hope  of  heaven,  will  see 
that  after  all  their  religious  labors  and  their  confident 
expectations,  they  are  not  prepared  for  heaven.  Each 
one  hoped  that  Christ  would  answer  for  him  ;  but  he 
has  never  believed  in  Christ.  He  hoped  that  the  Spirit 
would  sanctify  him.  But  he  has  steadily  resisted  and 
quenched  the  Spirit.  He  thought  heaven  was  sure  if 
he  remained  a  consistent  professor  or  a  respectable  per- 
son.    But  now  he  finds  there  is  not  an  element  of 


470  LECTURE   XXX. 

heaven  in  his  soul.  It  is  a  life  which  he  has  never 
aimed  to  secure  or  cultivate.  He  remains  still  selfish 
and  ungodly. 

He  has  not  the  wedding-garment,  and  now  he  knows 
it.  "What  can  he  say  ?  Well  may  he  be  speechless. 
He  hoped  in  God's  mercy ;  but  mercy  cannot  anni- 
hilate justice.  And  now  he  is  to  be  treated  as  he 
treated  God  and  othei's.  He  refused  God's  call ;  now 
God  will  refuse  his.  He  took  care  of  himself  alone  ; 
and  now  God  will  abandon  him  to  himself.  He  was 
indifferent  to  God's  glory ;  and  now  God  will  be  so 
to  his.     Tliis  is,  moreover, 

3.  The  dumbness  of  awe  and  terror.  He  has  now, 
for  the  first  time  since  he  received  his  rational  existence 
from  his  Maker,  really  met  him.  He  had  heard  much 
by  the  hearing  of  the  ear ;  but  now  he  meets  his  Judge, 
face  to  face  !  It  is  related  of  a  shepherd  boy,  that  as 
he  lay  on  a  bright  summer  day  on  the  hillside,  survey- 
ing the  sea  in  its  calm  beauty,  he  was  enchanted,  and 
resolved  to  sell  his  flock,  and  give  himself  up  to  a  life 
on  that  glorious  element.  But  when  he  was  fairly  out 
in  the  mid-ocean,  he  saw  too  late  that  he  reasoned  erro- 
neously from  the  present  to  the  future.  The  calm  was 
exchanged  for  the  terrors  and  perils  of  the  storm.  But 
what  mean  these  changing  moods  of  the  sea  ?  Like  all 
else  in  nature,  to  instruct  and  impress  the  human  heart. 
Why  sleeps  its  infinite  power,  rocking  like  the  heaving 
breast  of  slumbering  infancy  ?  Because  it  is  a  symbol 
of  God.  "Then  I  kept  silence,"  he  says;  ''and  thou 
thoughtest  I  was  altogether  like  thyself."  Now  he  is 
silent  as  the  sea  in  its  calmness.  But  when  he  arises 
to  the  judgment,  then  sliall  he  gird  himself  with  power 
and  terrible  majesty.     As  of  old,  the  mountains  will 


THE   WEDDING   OF   THE   PRINCK,  471 

tremble  at  his  appearing,  and  the  earth  qnake  "  for 
fear  of  the  Lord  and  for  the  glory  of  liis  majesty,  when 
he  ariseth  to  shake  terribly  the  earth."  Before  him 
burns  devouring  fire  ;  lightnings  leaj)  upon  his  path  ; 
and  flaming  cherubs  guard  his  throne.  The  heavens 
and  the  earth  flee  away  aifrighted  ;  and  death  and  hell 
unbar  their  dreadful  gates. 

Then  the  day  of  false  pleading  and  self-deception  is 
past.  "VVe  shall  then  have  to  do  with  the  Eang.  This 
will  be  so  unlike  dealing  simply  with  his  written  word, 
his  ambassadors,  or  our  own  consciences,  that  nothing 
we  have  ever  known,  can  give  us  any  right  apprehen- 
sions of  it,  A  life  of  insincerity,  of  compromise  with 
conscience  will  appear  detestable ;  yea,  fearful,  in  his 
presence.  It  is  the  overawing  presence  of  Infinite  Ma- 
jesty ;  the  majesty  of  Yirtue,  Truth,  Age,  Power,  Wis- 
dom, Rectitude,  and  Authority.  And  this  will  be  seen 
not  merely  in  Deity,  but  in  the  manhood  around  which 
the  ranks  of  heaven  fall  prostrate.  What  an  appeal  in 
that  day — "  Friend,  how  camest  thou  in  hither,  not 
having  a  wedding  garment !  " 

This  speechlessness  expresses  also, 

4.  Despair.  The  King  is  indignant,  who  shall  recon- 
cile him  %  "  How  camest  thou  in  hither  ?  "  The  only 
reply  is  :  by  having  a  contempt  alike  for  thy  holiness, 
thy  veracity  and  thy  mercy.  Not  an  attribute  in  God, 
not  a  creature  in  the  universe  will  plead  for  that  man. 

The  first  duty  of  every  one  is,  to  determine  what  is 
a  suitable  preparation  for  heaven.  Many  contradictory 
opinions  are  held  on  this  point,  of  which,  of  course,  but 
one  is  true.  Many  teachers  instruct  men  ;  but  we  have 
only  one  Master.  Each  must  determine  for  himself. 
Settle  these  points  with  a  profound  and  prayerful  ex- 


472  LECTUEE   XXX. 

amination  of  the  Word  of  God.  Am  I  lost,  in  my  pre- 
sent character  and  relations  to  God  ?  Is  it  absolute  and 
endless  ruin  that  awaits  me  ?  Can  I  be  saved  without 
forgiveness  ?  Am  I  to  be  forgiven  on  repentance  alone, 
or  must  faith  and  repentance  go  together  ?  Is  there 
any,  and  a  vital  difference,  between  believing  about 
Christ,  and  in  him  ? 

Sincere  ignorance  will  sa/ve  no  one.  It  does  not,  in 
the  ordinary  providence  of  God.  Tlie  man  who  took 
a  poisonous  dose,  sincerely  believing  it  was  a  salutary 
medicine,  found  his  sincerity  insuflScient  to  save  him. 
We  have  no  right  to  be  ignorant  on  this  momentous 
subject.  God  has  warned  and  guarded  us  on  this  point, 
sufficiently  to  remove  all  apology.  Perhaps  every  one 
of  us  has  time  enough,  this  day,  to  rectify  all  mistakes. 
And  if  you  spend  its  hours  in  trifling  thoughts,  and 
reading  or  speaking  vain  things,  instead  of  an  earnest 
and  prayerful  investigation  of  this  great  matter,  this 
day  may  be  sufficient  to  condemn  you.  The  remem- 
brance of  it  alone  may  make  you  speechless  before  the 
King. 

Now  is  the  time  of  self -scrutiny.  The  liing  delays 
his  coming.  Yet  he  is  coming  ;  and  he  will  allow  no 
guest  without  the  wedding  garment  to  remain  in  his 
presence. 

Am  I  a  rejecter  of  the  invitation  ?  Have  I  ac- 
cepted the  invitation  from  heaven  ?  Have  I  justifica- 
tion before  God  ;  is  sanctification  begun  in  my  heart  ? 


LECTUKE  XXXI. 

THE  BARKEN  FIG-TREE  ;    OR,  A  USELESS  LIFE  ENDING  IN  DE- 
STRUCTION. 

Luke  xiii.  6-9. — "  He  spake  also  this  parable  ;  A  certain  man  had  a 
fig-tree  planted  in  his  vineyard  ;  and  he  came  and  sought  fruit  thereon, 
and  fovmd  none.  Then  said  he  imto  the  dresser  of  his  vineyard,  Behold, 
these  three  years  I  come  seeking  fruit  on  this  fig  tree,  and  find  none  :  cut 
it  down ;  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground  ?  And  he  answering  said  unto 
him,  Lord,  let  it  alone  this  year  also,  till  I  shall  dig  about  it,  and  dung 
it :  And  if  it  bear  fruit,  well :  and  if  not,  then  after  that  thou  shalt  cut  it 
down." 

When  some  persons  reported  to  Jesus  tlie  melan- 
clioly  story  of  tlie  Galileans  whom  Pilate  liad  slain  at 
the  foot  of  their  altar,  he  appears  to  have  discovered  in 
them  the  marks  of  a  self-complacent  sj)irit ;  and,  to  re- 
prove them,  he  gave  this  history  of  the  iig-tree.  And 
the  peculiar  force  of  this  reproof  is  found  in  its  point- 
ing out  a  distinction  wliich  all  are  prone  to  overlook  ; 
but  which  the  Jews  signally  failed  to  regard.  Had 
they  looked  upon  natural  endowments,  national  bless- 
ings, and  high  religious  privileges  as  increasing  their 
responsibility  to  obey  God,  and  to  become  holy,  they 
would  have  used  their  blessings  as  the  bountiful  Giver 
wished  them  to  be  employed.  But  instead  of  that,  they 
considered  their  outward  advantages  as  themselves  con- 


4T4  LECTURE    XX.XI. 

stituting  tlieir  claim  on  God's  favor.  And  so  far  did 
they  carry  this  spirit,  that  if  the  providence  of  God  re- 
moved their  neighbors  by  a  sudden  death,  but  spared 
them,  they  regarded  it  as  an  indication  of  God's  special 
approbation ;  even  though  they  might  be  living  in  en- 
tire disregard  of  his  design  in  sparing  them.  How  ap- 
propriate to  them,  and  to  many  in  our  day,  is  the  his- 
tory of  this  fig-tree  ! 

As  referring  to  the  Jews,  it  is  full  of  appalling 
interest.  They  were  a  fig-tree  which  God  owned, 
and  planted  in  his  vineyard.  He  had  looked  to  them 
for  the  fruits  of  righteousness.  Under  varying  and 
successive  dispensations  he  had  come  seeking  fruit ; 
but  in  vain.  There  was  none.  Then,  when  his  justice 
called  for  their  extinction,  his  mercy  still  pleaded  their 
cause.  A  new  process  of  cultivation  was  to  be  under- 
taken ;  the  Son  of  God  himself  becoming  their  teacher. 
But  this  was  to  be  the  last;  if  it  should  fail,  then  jus- 
tice might  take  its  course,  and  hew  down  the  offensive, 
useless,  and  cumbrous  object.  The  parable  still  lives  ; 
a  picture  of  the  personal  history  of  every  one  who  en- 
joys the  privileges  of  the  Gospel,  but  fails  to  become 
obedient  to  God.  Yiewed  in  this  light,  it  contains  an 
exhibition  of  God's  expectations  concerning  us  ;  his 
disappointment  in  us ;  and  his  consequent  treatment 
of  us. 

The  parable  shows  us, 

I.  The  reasonable  expectation  of  our  Creator. 
Expectation  of  fruit  stands  forth  here  most  promi- 
nent.    A  man  jplanted  *  a  tree.     It  did  not  come  there 

*  The  criticism  must  be  regarded  as  strained,  which,  from  the  phrase 
"  had  a  fig-tree  planted,"  conchides  that  he  did  not  cause  it  to  be  planted. 


THE   BARREN   FIG-TREE.  475 

by  accident.  He  was  inter^estcd  in  having  a  tree  there. 
And  he  liad  chosen  a  particular  kind  of  tree.  It  was 
one  adapted  by  its  nature  to  produce  figs.  Hence  he 
chose  a  fig-tree  ;  because  the  fig  was  the  fruit  he  desired. 
He  planted  it  in  a  mneyard^  or  enclosed  place  ;  a  cul- 
tivated field,  where  the  soil  was  rich,  and  the  trees  were 
protected,  and  cared  for.  It  was  committed  also  to 
one  skilful  in  the  care  of  trees.  This  intention  of  the 
owner  thus  expressed,  laid  the  foundation  for  a  reason- 
able expectation  of  that  specific  fruit  which  he  desired. 
If  you  have  ever  planted  a  vine,  a  rose-bush,  or  an 
apple-tree,  you  know  the  feeling ;  and  through  it,  you 
may  know  your  Maker's  feelings. 

Man  is  the  tree  planted  by  the  hand  of  God,  in  his 
own  choice  garden,  and  brought  under  his  own  most 
gracious  culture,  the  light  of  a  supernatural  revelation, 
the  examj)le  of  a  perfect  goodness,  and  the  influences 
of  supernatural  grace. 

Our  first  inquiry  here  is  : 

1.  ^yhat  hind  of  fruit  does  our  Creator  exjpect  of 
man  f  And  we  may  say  in  general,  it  is  goodness  ; 
godliness  and  benevolence  put  forth  in  action  ;  that 
form  of  character,  that  course  of  life,  and  the  exercise 
of  that  influence  which  at  once  most  honors  his  Creator, 
ennobles  himself,  and  blesses  -his  race.  Where,  then, 
shall  we,  as  rational  beings,  look  for  an  expression  of 
our  Creator's  will  in  reference  to  us?  We  have  our 
native  propensities ;  we  all  love  ease,  and  honor,  and 
wealth,  and  pleasure  in  its  grosser  or  more  refined 
forms.  If  we  pursue  them,  will  that  accomplish  the  end 
of  our  existence  ?  or,  does  he  that  formed,  and  planted, 
and  cultivated  us,  look  for  something  else  from  us  ? 

His  commands  shall  reply.     Tliey  are  an  unveiling 


476  LECTURE   XXXI. 

of  his  tliouglits,  an  utterance  of  his  will.  These  com- 
mands cover  our  whole  existence,  and  comprehend  the 
action  of  all  our  powers,  outward  and  inward.  ^V(j 
were  made  to  be,  and  to  do,  whatever  the  commands  of 
Jehovah  specify.  They  begin  their  work  at  the  centre 
of  our  spiritual  being ;  controlling  the  first  springs  of 
all  mental  and  moral  action.  "We  must  love.  That  is 
their  beginning  their  sum,  and  substance.  That  is, 
we  must  go  out  of  ourselves,  to  find  the  object  of  our 
complacency  ;  the  source  of  our  delight ;  the  end  of  our 
actions.  And  the  Lord  must  be  that  object,  source,  and 
end.  We  must  then  descend  from  him  to  his  creatures, 
and  find  an  innumerable  multitude,  of  whom,  as  a  race, 
we  form  a  constituent  part,  and  we  must  love  all  for  his 
sake,  and  in  him.  This  was  our  duty  under  mere  law. 
But  as  sinners  under  redemption,  we  must,  moreover, 
repent  of  sin  toward  God,  and  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  From  this  exercise  branch  out  all  that  loveli- 
ness and  holiness  of  character ;  that  constancy  of  obe- 
dience ;  that  practice  of  virtue ;  that  holy  influence 
over  men,  which  are  specified  in  innumerable  precepts 
of  the  Divine  Word. 

In  Christ  again,  we  find  our  highest  model.  Many 
others  are  patterns.  But  they  have  all  said  :  "  Be  ye 
followers  of  me,  as  I  follow  Christ." 

The  fruits  he  bore,  were — obedience ;  "  My  meat 
and  drink  is,  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me." — Sub- 
mission ;  "  Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done." — Zeal ; 
"The  zeal  of  thy  house  hath  consumed  me." — Patience 
and  confidence  ;  "  Of  that  day  and  that  hour  kno^veth 
no  man,  not  even  the  Son." — Benevolence  and  meek- 
ness ;  "  For  our  sakes,  he  gave  his  back  to  the  smiters." 


THE   BARKEN    FIG-TREE.  477 

His  external  life  was,  holiness  to  God  and  benefi- 
cence to  men.  It  was  spiritual  in  its  ends,  tone  and  in- 
fluence ;  self-denying,  loyal,  and  prayerful. 

Man  is  then  to  be  like  Christ ;  and  to  live  like  him  ; 
every  man.  He  is  to  have  the  same  ends,  spirit,  and 
influence.  You  cannot  name  that  moral  excellence  in 
Christ,  or  in  any  of  his  best  servants,  their  character 
or  their  life,  which  every  human  being  is  not  expected 
by  his  Creator  to  possess  and  exercise.  The  most 
wicked  men  are  to  repent,  and  turn  to  God  and  his  ser- 
vice, as  the  idolatrous  and  licentious  Corinthians  did. 
The  most  self-righteous  are  to  become  as  penitent,  and 
self-abased,  and  grateful,  as  Paul.  "Worldly-minded 
persons  are  to  become  spiritually-minded  ;  proud  men 
humble  ;  liars  and  fraudulent  men,  truthful  and  scrupu- 
lous in  the  use  of  their  tongues.  "  Let  him  that  stole, 
steal  no  more."  Tlie  impure  must  cease  to  "  wallow 
in  the  mire."  Profane  persons  must  hallow  the  name 
of  their  Creator,  and  no  more  blaspheme  it.  Ambi- 
tious men  must  seek  his  glory,  instead  of  their  om'u. 
Covetous  men  must  henceforth  lay  up  their  treasures  in 
heaven.  Selfish  men  must  despise  their  own  littleness 
of  spirit.  Prayerless  men  must  begin  to  pray  ;  alone  ; 
with  their  families,  and  their  friends. 

All  this  God  expects  of  every  one.  He  wishes  this 
world,  now  a  desert,  to  become  a  garden  of  the  Lord. 
He  would  have  mankind  become  his  happy  family  ; 
men,  his  dutiful,  happy  children. 

Fellow-man,  what  think  you  of  these  requirements, 
as  it  respects  others  ;  but  particularly  as  it  res]3ects 
yom'self  ?  It  is  indispensable  that  you  should  see 
that — 

2.    These  exjpectaUons  are    reasonable  and   right. 


478  LECTURE   XXXI. 

Tliey  are  founded  upon  man's  endowments,  and  tipon 
liis  relations  to  liis  Maker. 

When  we  examine  the  beings  and  objects  that  sur- 
round us,  we  discover  that  every  thing  has  an  ultimate 
purpose.  That  gi^^es  the  universe  its  meaning ;  that 
makes  the  study  of  nature  so  lofty  an  intellectual 
pursuit.  Man  is  an  e*nd  to  every  thing  that  surrounds 
him.  He  ministers  to  nothing  as  his  ultimate  end. 
Every  thing  points  to  him  as  its  lord  ;  every  thing 
waits  on  him,  either  to  do  his  will,  or,  unbidden,  to 
serve  him.  What  then  ;  is  it  the  glory  of  every  other 
creature,  that  it  ministers  to  some  creature  superior  to 
itself ;  and  has  man  no  end  nor  design  worthy  of  his 
own  wonderful  faculties !  If  you  examine  his  body, 
you.  will  discover  that  every  part  of  it  waits  on  the 
spirit  within  its  enclosure.  Its  exquisite  mechanisia 
works  towards  one  noble  end,  an  end  superior  to  its 
own  nature.  It  is  matter ;  but  its  aim  is  spiritual  good. 
But  what  of  the  spirit  of  man !  That  too  is  wonderful- 
ly endowed.  And  does  not  that  tend  upward  too, 
above  itself  as  an  end,  like  all  that  surrounds  it  ?  Yes ; 
unless  man  is  the  absolute  and  universal  sovereign.  If 
he  belongs  to  a  higher  system,  then  he  must  be  subor- 
dinate in  it,  as  all  other  creatures  belong  to  him,  by 
being  subordinate  to  him.  Thus  says  the  voice  of  rea- 
son ;  and  in  so  saying,  echoes  the  voice  of  revelation  : 
"  Know  that  Jehovah,  he  is  God ;  it  is  he  that  made 
us,  and  not  we  ourselves  ;  we  are  his  people,  the  sheep 
of  his  pasture.  Of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him 
ai-e  all  things." 

All  man's  endowments  are  God's  gifts.  He  that 
gave  the  fig-tree  the  power  of  producing  its  delicious 
fruit,  made  man  capable  of  bearing  these  piecious  fruits 


THE   BAKIiEN    FIG-TKEE.  4r79 

of  rigliteousuess.  And  lie  planted  him  iu  this  fair  gar- 
den ;  and  has  sent  npon  him  all  the  needful  influences 
of  his  providence  and  grace.  And  he  comes,  expecting 
fruit  from  him. 

And  it  must  be  farther  observed,  that, 
3.  This  expectation  is  eanrnest.  "  Behold,  these  three 
years  I  come,  seeking  fruit."  Three  years  successively 
the  owner  comes,  looking  anxiously  for  the  fruit  he  de- 
sires. What  is  more  natural  and  reasonable  than  that ! 
"We  may  all  know  that  peculiar  feeling  with  which  one 
watches  a  favorite  tree  or  plant ;  which  is  expected  to 
furnish  either  flowers,  shade,  or  fruit.  But  how  much 
more  earnest  is  the  expectation  which  a  conscientious 
Teacher  feels  towards  a  pupil  whom  he  has  faithfully 
and  laboriously  instructed  ?  Pass  then  beyond  that  to 
the  expectation  of  a  Parent !  Then  pass  to  the  expec- 
tation of  a  Creator,  who  made  us  so  fearfully  and  won- 
derfully ;  of  a  Saviour  who  died  for  us  so  kindly.  Al- 
lusion is,  in  fact,  here  made  to  the  system  of  mediation. 
And  it  gives  peculiar  force  and  tenderness  to  the  exhi- 
bition of  God's  expectancy.  So  earnest  was  om-  gra- 
cious Creator  to  have  us  become  what  he  desires  us  to 
be,  that  he  has  given  the  race  a  second  trial.  And  al- 
though we  are  born  under  the  new  dispensation,  yet 
the  moral  power  of  the  old  is  not  lost  upon  us.  AVe 
feel  the  full  power  and  pressure  both  of  law  and  of 
grace.  While  nature  and  conscience  urge  us  to  duty, 
the  Bible  and  the  Cross  complete  the  moral  power  that 
persuades  us  to  holiness  of  heart  and  life. 

We  are  probably  not  to  seek  for  a  doctrinal  analo- 
gy in  all  the  features  of  the  story.  The  intercession 
here  expresses  a  general  fact  in  the  history  of  those  who 
finally  reject  the  ofiered  salvation.     It  is  not  the  inter- 


480  LECTURE   XXXI. 

cession  which  Christ  employs  for  those  who  trust  him ; 
but  the  general  exercise  of  long-suffering  in  God.  Or, 
it  may  be  regarded  as  the  kind  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
as  he  induces  a  sinner,  while  refusing  submission  to 
Christ,  yet  to  plead  for  a  delay  of  doom.  It  may  be, 
that  intercession  which  he  produces  in  the  Church, 
godly  parents,  ministers,  and  others  praying  for  a 
respite  of  deserved  judgment  on  the  ungodly. 

Mere  law  would  at  once  cut  down  a  barren  fig-tree. 
But  grace  cries  :  "  Spare,  for  I  may  restore  it."  The 
admission  of  this  intercession  shows  God's  earnest  de- 
sire ;  the  exciting  it  in  the  hearts  of  his  people,  still 
more.  The  expectation  is  then  the  more  reasonable 
and  earnest,  as  the  possibility  of  our  recovery  is  so  com- 
plete, the  urgency  so  intense  ;  the  aid  so  abundant ;  the 
skill  of  a  divine  cultivator  now  being  expended  on 
them !  The  divine  compassion  urges ;  divine  sympa- 
thy awaits  our  first  return  ;  divine  power  and  faithful- 
ness are  the  pledge  of  our  welcome  and  success.  Every 
command  reveals  God's  feeling,  as  saying :  "  I  have 
bidden  this  rational  creature  to  love  me ;  and  I  come 
now  ;  again  and  again  seeking  in  him  a  heart  to  love 
me."  Every  invitation,  every  threatening,  every  pro- 
mise, every  temporal  blessing,  every  drop  of  water, 
every  beam  of  light,  every  ordinance  of  the  Gospel, 
the  Bible,  the  text,  the  sermon,  the  prayer,  each  speaks 
the  same  language. 

This  is  the  fig-tree  planted  and  cultivated  with  di- 
vine care,  for  the  sake  of  its  precious  fruit ;  the  richest, 
in  God's  estimate,  that  grows  in  all  his  vast  domains. 

Tlie  second  stage  of  the  parable  is, 

11.  The  disappointment. 

God  cannot  be  disappointed  as  we  are  ;  for  he  can- 


THE   BARREN    FIG-TREE.  481 

not  think,  nor  love,  nor  exist  as  we  do.  Yet  our  exist 
ence,  our  thoughts,  love  and  disappointment,  all  convey 
to  lis  equally  accurate  conceptions  of  him. 

Two  classes  of  persons  disappoint  him. 

X.  The  vicious.  He  looks  for  good  works,  and  they 
perform  wicked  works  ;  for  grapes,  and  they  bring  forth 
wild  grapes.  He  looks  for  holiness,  and  they  are  filled 
with  corruption  ;  for  love,  and  finds  hatred  ;  for  rever- 
ence, and  finds  contempt ;  for  useful  employment  of 
their  time  and  their  influence,  but  they  spend  all  in  hurt- 
ing themselves  and  others.  No  man  nor  angel  can  tell 
how  our  Maker  feels  at  the  sight  of  one  of  his  rational 
creatures  doing  its  utmost  to  efface  his  image  from  its 
nature,  and  disappoint  all  his  paternal  feelings.  But  he 
is  equally  disappointed  in  the, 

2.  Negatively  good.  This  class  wonder  how  they 
can  be  charged  with  disappointing  their  Creator.  They 
are  looking  superficially  in  both  directions.  Wlien  they 
think  of  the  bad  things  they  do  not  do,  they  forget  to 
enumerate  the  good  things  they  equally  omit  to  do. 
In  thinking  of  their  good  deeds,  they  overlook  entirely 
a  kind  of  mischief  which  they  are  constantly  working. 
There  is  a  "  cumbering  the  ground "  which  seems  to 
enter  but  little  into  their  calculations,  although  the 
Master  of  the  garden  thinks  much  of  it.  The  difference 
between  man  and  the  inferior  animals  embraces  his 
rational  free-will.  Their  wills  can  never  effect  a  breach 
of  moral  law,  or  defeat  the  purpose  of  their  Maker  ; 
man's  can,  and  does.  He  can  resist  all  forms  of  influ- 
ence on  his  heart.  This  class  of  persons  then  do  not 
repent  of  sin  ;  nor  yield  themselves  up  to  the  Spirit  of 
God.  Many  of  them  are  satisfied  with  their  fine  moral 
sentimorts,  their  religious  reverence;  their  respectful 
21 


482  LECTUKE   XXXI. 

attention  to  the  Gospel.  Like  the  Jews,  they  mistake 
enjoying  privileges,  for  being  benefited  by  them.  It  is 
as  if  the  fig-tree  should  content  itself  with  enjoying 
sunshine  and  sliowers,  and  the  skilful  hand  of  culture  ; 
which  is  all  very  valuable.  But  God  expects  fruit 
They  have  sunshine  ;  showers ;  leaves  ;  broad-spread 
ing,  beautiful ;  but  no  figs  !  Thus  they  remain,  from 
year  to  year,  impenitent.  There  is  no  outward  confes- 
sion of  Christ.  He  expects  every  soul  redeemed  by  hig 
blood,  to  honor  him  by  a  sincere  avowal  of  its  depend- 
ence on  him,  its  submission  to  him,  its  confidence  and 
its  consecration  to  his  service.  Tliey  exert  no  religious 
influence  on  others.  Not  doing  any  positive  injury 
satisfies  them,  but  not  their  Maker.  He  expects  good 
works  ;  but  they  produce  only  "  dead  works  ; "  dead  in 
the  unbelief  that  originates  them.  Of  each  of  us  a  de- 
cided and  strong  religious  influence  is  required.  Who 
can  exempt  himself ;  who  would  exemj^t  himself  from 
this  responsibility  ? 

The  parable  has  another  and  final  stage : 

in.  The  process  of  destkuction. 
"  Cut  it  down,"  was  the  first  command.  That  ex- 
hibits to  us  the  tremendous  truth,  that  we  deserve  to 
perish  for  disappointing  our  Maker's  expectations ;  that 
we  deserve  it  for  our  first  transgressions  ;  that  our  de- 
serving grows  more  intense  with  every  renewed  trans- 
gression ;  that  we  deserve  to  jierish  for  negative  sins, 
or  not  bearing  fruit.  But  you  will  notice  here,  that 
the  cutting  down  the  tree  does  not  refer  to  any  of  the 
calamities  of  this  life.  With  bodies  of  men,  God  deals 
in  judgment  here.  The  Lord  thus  threatens  Israel  by 
lis  servant  Isaiah :  "  Now  will  I  sing  a  song  to  my 


THE    BARREN    FIG-TREE.  4:8S 

well-beloved,  touching  his  vineyard.  My  well-beloved 
hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful  hill ;  and  he  fenced 
it,  and  gathered  out  the  stones  thereof,  and  planted  it 
witli  the  choicest  vine,  and  built  a  tower  in  the  midst 
of  it,  and  also  made  a  wine-press  therein.  And  ho 
looked  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes  ;  and  it  brought 
forth  wild  grapes.  And  now,  O  inhabitants  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  men  of  Judah,  judge,  I  pray  you,  betwixt  me 
and  my  vineyard.  What  could  have  been  done  more 
to  my  vineyard,  that  I  have  not  done  in  it  ?  And  now 
go  to,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do  to  my  vineyard  ; 
I  will  take  away  the  hedge  thereof,  and  it  shall  be 
eaten  wp  ;  and  break  down  the  wall  thereof,  and  it  shall 
be  trodden  down :  and  I  will  lay  it  waste  ;  it  shall  not 
be  pruned  nor  digged  ;  but  there  shall  come  up  briars 
and  thorns  ;  I  will  also  command  the  clouds  that  they 
rain  no  rain  upon  it."  This  parable  our  Lord  repeated 
to  the  men  of  his  generation.  And  it  was  fearfully 
verified  in  their  history,  within  less  than  forty  years. 

But  the  parable  now  before  us  is  related  for  the 
very  diiferent  purpose  of  showing  that  the  calamities 
of  this  life  are  not  the  destruction  threatened  against 
individuals.  The  Galileans  who  had  perished,  whether 
by  Pilate's  cruelty  or  justice;  or,  the  eighteen  on 
whom  the  tower  fell,  were  not  worse,  perhaps  not  as 
guilty,  as  many  who  were  then  living,  and  listening  to 
Christ.  It  is  not  now  an  orchard  or  a  vineyard  which 
our  Saviour  holds  to  our  view  ;  but  a  single,  unfruitful 
tree  ;  its  history,  and  its  destiny. 

"Cut  it  down"  is  the  sentence  of  death  upon  the 
impenitent,  viewed  in  reference  to  its  consequences ; 
not  in  itself  considered,  for  death  comes  equally  to  all. 
Look  then  at, 


484  LECTDKE   XXXI. 

1.  The  teii'ilileness  of  the  sentence.  Death  comes  to 
an  impenitent  person,  the  end  of  Divine  cultivation. 
You  remember  that  when  that  blow  is  struck,  it  is  after 
a  respite.  The  first  sentence  from  the  owner  is  dread- 
ful :  "  Cut  it  down."  But  more  dreadful  than  that  is 
the  gardener's  reply :  "  if  then  it  bear  fruit,  well ;  if  not, 
then,  ATTEK  THAT,  thou  shalt  cut  it  down."  Can  any 
thing  present  a  more  dreary  spectacle,  a  more  despe- 
rate case  !  It  is  an  echo  of  the  sentence  :  "  Tliere  re- 
maineth  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin."  "  Tlie  earth  which 
di'inketh  in  the  rain  that  cometh  oft  upon  it,  and 
bringeth  forth  herbs  meet  for  them  by  whom  it  is 
dressed,  receiveth  blessing  from  God  ;  but  that  which 
beareth  thorns  and  briars,  is  rejected,  and  is  nigh  unto 
cursing,  whose  end  is  to  be  burned."  Intercession  has 
ceased ;  means  and  influences  for  good  have  ceased. 
And  all  hope  from  them  has  ceased.  And  the  former 
enjoyment  of  them  only  goes  to  the  aggravation  of 
guilt  and  doom. 

It  is  the  end  of  Divine  expectation.  God  will 
never  look  again  to  that  soul  to  become  obedient,  holy 
or  useful ! 

It  is  the  end  of  Divine  disappointment.  God  will 
never  again  be  tried  and  grieved  by  its  failure.  It  is  a 
tree  cut  down,  and  cast  out. 

To  show  all  this  in  action,  as  he  here  uttered  it  in 
words,  our  Saviour  on  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  seeing  a 
fig-tree  in  the  distance,  M^ent  to  it  to  get  some  fruit ; 
and  when  he  had  found  nothing  but  leaves,  though  it 
was  the  time  to  find  fruit,  if  any  had  been  produced,  he 
doomed  it,  "  and  presently  the  fig-tree  withered  awayP 
This  was  a  parabolic  action,  even  more  terrible  than  the 


THE   BAKREN    FIG-TREE.  48c 

word-parables.  Thus  the  soul  of  man  withers  away 
under  the  linal  curse. 

I  will  follow  it  no  farther  than  to  this  negative  as- 
pect of  its  destiny.  The  Scriptures  go  much  farther. 
This,  however,  is  enough  for  our  present  contempla- 
tion ;  a  soul  created  for  great  ends ;  cultivated,  and 
cared  for ;  at  the  end  of  its  trial  abandoned  as  hope- 
less and  useless  for  ever  ! 

Look  from  the  terribleness,  now,  to 

2.  The  righteousness  of  this  sentence  :  "  Cut  it 
down.''^  It  is  proved  to  be  a  useless  tree.  "  If  I  had 
wanted  a  shade-tree,  I  should  have  planted  an  oak  for 
beauty  of  form  and  foliage.  I  might  have  chosen  the 
palm.  But  I  wanted  figs  ;  and  therefore  I  honored 
this  tree  with  this  place  and  this  culture.  Failing  to 
produce  figs,  it  fails  to  answer  my  purposes,  and  is  use- 
less to  me.  It  has  no  right  in  my  grounds,  and  it  shall 
no  longer  occupy  them.  This  is  righteous  towards  a 
tree  ;  it  is  righteous  toward  man.  The  tree  was  more 
than  useless  ;  it  was  also  noxious.  It  cumbered  the 
ground ;  occupying  the  room  where  another  might 
have  stood ;  drawing  the  strength  of  the  soil  to  itself ; 
and  keeping  the  beams  of  the  sun  from  others.  It  is 
right  in  our  Creator  to  determine  how  long  he  can 
bear  with  our  unprofitableness ;  and  when  he  had 
better  cease  to  cultivate  a  soul  that  makes  no 
return. 

This  is,  then,  our  solemn  position.  "We  are  planted 
by  om*  Creator  in  his  garden ;  each  of  us  is  a  tree,  en- 
dowed with  specific  powers  adapted  to  the  attainment 
01  certain  excellencies,  and  the  achievement  of  particular 
forms  of  good.     God  is  not  indifferent  to  us.     He  loves 


486  LECTURE    XXXI. 

US,  and  has  placed  us  under  mediatorial  influences.  He 
expects  fruit  from  us.  He  encourages  each  one  of  ua 
to  become  a  believer  in  Jesus,  a  true  Christian.  And 
it  is  but  a  mock  humility  that  thinks  we  can  do  nothing 
to  please  God.  This  parable  fully  contradicts  it.  How 
great  then  is  our  responsibility  to  bear  such  fruit !  We 
are  now  enjoying  great  privileges ;  and  God  is  most 
earnest  in  granting  them.  We  are  in  his  garden,  where 
he  comes  seeking  fruit.  His  eye  is  upon  us ;  our  hearts, 
our  lives ;  on  each  of  us.  "  Lo,  I  have  come,  seeking 
fruit  on  this  tree."  It  is  a  kind,  but  also  a  solemn  inspec- 
tion.    It  has  reference  to   duty  /  and  to  destiny. 

The  inquiry  of  chief  interest  with  each  one,  then,  is  : 
How  do  I  meet  this  inspecting  eye  ?  There  are  the 
fruit-bearing.  They  live  by  faith ;  and  so  overcome 
the  world,  and  overcome  themselves.  They  bear  in 
their  hearts  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  l»[othing  our  Crea- 
tor regards  with  more  delight.  They  glorify  him  before 
angels  by  reverence,  love,  confidence,  penitence,  and 
gratitude.  They  glorify  him  before  men,  in  their  fami- 
lies, showing  the  Spirit  of  Christ ;  honoring  his  word, 
his  ordinances,  his  j)i'ovidence,  his  Sabbaths.  In  busi- 
ness they  show  that  they  fear  God  ;  love  their  Saviour ; 
and  are  looking  for  the  salvation  of  God  as  their  su- 
preme portion.  In  the  Church  they  are  found  laboring 
for  God's  glory,  and  man's  salvation.  Some  are  fruit- 
less. Friend,  look  at  yourself  as  Christ  now  looks  upon 
you.  Look  into  his  eye  as  it  rests  on  you,  and  read 
what  is  passing  in  his  heart.  How  many  years  have 
you  occupied  a  place  in  his  garden  ?  What  were  you 
sent  into  this  world  for  ?  How  long  has  the  Lord  been 
cultivating  you?  But  there  are  no  returns.  Tlie  first 
Bentence  has  gone  forth  against  you, — do  you  know  that  ? 


THE    BARREN    FIG-TREE.  487 

"  Cut  it  down,  why  ciimberetli  it  the  ground  ? "  But 
that  sentence  has  been  arrested  by  the  intercessor.  And 
under  that  prayer  you  now  live.  Look  at  the  terms  of 
it ;  for  they  are  of  supreme  interest  to  you.  "  Let  it 
alone  this  year  also."  Spare  it,  Lord,  one  more  season. 
The  disobedient  are  then  merely  suffered  to  live.  It  is 
not  from  any  desert.  They  deserve  to  be  cut  down. 
And  are  you  careless  and  secure  under  such  circum- 
stances ;  can  nothing  arouse  you  to  see  your  state  ?  Re- 
member the  difference  between  a  reversed  and  a  sus- 
pended sentence.  Yours  is  but  suspended.  "  Cut  it 
down  "hangs  over  you;  suspended  for  "a  year;"  a 
season  of  experiments  with  you.  Those  experiments 
of  mercy  are  now  going  on.  Your  Sabbaths,  your 
Bible  ;  Nature's  teachings  ;  the  Holy  Spirit ;  sermons  ; 
afflictions  ;  all  look  to  this  end.  What  an  importance 
attaches  to  them,  as  they  are  used  by  the  Lord  !  His 
design  in  them  gives  them  their  significance  and  worth. 
And  how  does  this  benevolent  intercessor  regard  you, 
all  the  while  ?  With  expectation.  He  has  been  coming 
again  and  again,  looking  for  fruit.  "These  three  years." 
That  is  long  in  the  life  of  a  fig-tree.  With  you  it  may  have 
been  ten  times  three.  In  childhood  God  expected  the  pie- 
ty of  a  child.  In  youth,  he  came  ;  in  manliood  ;  in  sick- 
ness ;  in  revivals ;  but  it  has  all  been  disappointment,  up  to 
this  very  hour.  That  is  all  you  have  done ;  cumbered  the 
ground,  wasted  the  culture  of  Heaven,  and  disappointed 
its  expectations.  This  sermon  will  cause  another  disap- 
pointment !  Hear  then  the  remainder  of  the  prayer, 
under  which  you  are  kept  from  destruction.  "  Perhaps 
it  will  bear  fruit ;  if  not,  then,  after  that,  thou  slialt  cut 
it  down."  "  After  that ; "  after  what  ?  which  year, 
which  sermon,  which  resistance  of  the  Spirit  ?     He 


4:88  LECTUEE    XXXI. 

only  knows.  This  parable  is  among  the  warnings  he 
kindly  sends.  It  is  all  a  warning  ;  a  warning,  from  be- 
ginning to  end  •  Christ's  warning.  A  heathen  said  : 
"  Tlie  feet  of  the  avenging  deities  are  shod  with  wool." 
You  can't  say  so.  "The  axe  is  laid  at  the  root." 
There  it  is ;  you  can  see  it,  the  very  axe  that  will  cut 
you  down,  if  you  do  not  bring  forth  fruit.  Everj' 
change  in  your  life  is  whetting  its  edge.  Hark  !  Did 
you  hear  that  blow  ?  It  was  the  axe  falling  on  some 
barren  fig-tree.  "What  a  sound ;  it  echoes  to  the  cav- 
erns of  hell !  Again  it  strikes.  Tliere  is  a  tree,  tall 
and  fair,  as  the  cedars  of  Lebanon.  But  it  has  only 
leaves.  Tremble,  sinner,  as  you  hear  it  fall.  Its  season 
of  respite  is  over.  Divine  patience  can  spare  it  no 
longer.  It  falls  ;  falls  for  eternity  !  Oh  !  what  if  you 
should  die  as  you  are  !  Your  existence  a  failure  ;  a 
failure  to  answer  God's  merciful  designs  and  glorious 
purposes  !  You  die,  a  useless  being.  There  is  no  place 
of  honor  or  usefulness  that  you  ever  can  occupy.  He 
that  is  unfaithful  in  the  sacred  trusts  of  time,  shall  have 
no  trusts  in  eternity.  Your  history  will  be  that  of  the 
barren  fig-tree  ;  which  neither  God  nor  you  will  remem- 
ber with  any  satisfaction ! 

Be  not  deceived ;  God  is  not  mocked.  He  utters 
no  idle  words.  The  axe  lies  in  sight.  Death  will  lift 
it  soon.  Depend  upon  it,  you  will  never  be  planted 
again,  if  he  cuts  you  down  by  the  Master's  order,  as  a 
cumberer  of  the  ground.  You  are  indulging  a  secret 
hope  that  these  warnings  may  prove  to  be  unfounded. 
Then  you  would  prove  Christ  to  be  a  deceiver.  You 
indulge  a  secret  hope  that  you  will  find  sympathy 
somewhere  in  that  dreadful  day.  No  ;  when  he  with 
draws  his  s^onpathy,  the  universe  becomes  to  you  a 


THE   BAKREN   FIG-TREE.  489 

cheerless  prison.  Does  it  seem  too  dreadful  to  be  true  ? 
I  will  tell  you  something  more  dreadful,  that  you  know 
to  be  true.  It  is,  that  you  have  not  done  what  God 
wants  you  to  do.  It  is,  tha*  you  will  indulge  a  hope 
that  makes  God  a  liar.  It  is,  that  you  will  go  on^  in 
the  face  of  this  parahle,  to  destruction.  It  is,  that  you 
will  resist  such  kindness,  refuse  to  yield  to  such  enno- 
bling influences,  persevere  in  thwarting  the  most  friend- 
ly designs  of  God  toward  you.  It  is,  that  since  there 
must  be  a  last  warning  despised,  a  last  sermon,  a  last 
strain  on  the  cord  that  keeps  you  back  from  destruc- 
tion, and  you  know  not  but  that  awful  closing  act  of 
resistance  is  now  to  be  performed,  yet  you  dare  to  per- 
form it ! 

Hear  the  word :  "  Cut  it  down ;  cut  it  down." 
What ;  a  tree  ?    ISTo  ;  a  soul ! 

I  once  occupied  a  room,  looking  out  on  a  garden 
beautifully  arranged.  When  the  winter  had  passed j  I 
watched  with  intense  sympathy  the  effect  of  returning 
spring  on  the  trees  and  plants.  One  tree  remained 
brown  and  leafless,  while  all  around  it  were  putting  on 
their  beautiful  robes.  One  day  the  gardener  came  to 
this  tree,  and  looked  at  it  wath  an  expression  of  sympa- 
thy. He  seemed  to  wish  to  help  it  put  forth  foliage. 
His  visits  were  repeated  several  times ;  new  care  Avas 
bestowed  upon  it ;  frequent  tests  were  applied  to  ascer- 
tain whether  it  still  lived.  Days  j^assed  ;  and  it  was 
only  becoming  more  hideous,  as  its  companions  grew 
more  beautiful.  My  own  sympathy  for  it  sensibly  de- 
clined with  my  hope  for  its  recovery  ;  it  was  becoming 
so  manifest  that  "it  cumbered  the  ground."  At  length 
I  observed  the  gardener  come  and  give  it  one  more 
earnest  inspection.  He  shook  his  head,  as  if  hope  had 
21* 


490  LECTURE   XXXII. 

died  in  his  heart,  and  his  lips  pronounced  its  doom. 
Soon  he  returned  with  his  axe.  Every  blow  upon  it 
excited  laj  sympathy,  but  satisfied  my  judgment.  And 
when  he  cut  it  down,  dragged  it  out,  and  cast  it  on  the 
fire,  I  said,  it  is  right ;  but  it  is  awfully  symbolical  of 
the  doom  of  Christless  men. 


LECTUKE  XXXn. 

THE    TEN    VIRGINS;    OR,   PREPARATION   IN  TIME   FOR   ETERNITY.* 

Matt.  xxv.  1-13. — "Then  shall  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be  likened 
unto  ten  virgins,  which  took  their  lamps,  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  bride- 
groom. And  five  of  them  were  wise,  and  five  were  foolish.  They  that 
were  foolish  took  their  lamps,  and  took  no  oil  with  them :  But  the  wise 
took  oil  in  their  vessels  with  their  lamps.  While  the  bridegroom  tanied, 
they  all  slumbered  and  slept.  And  at  midnight  there  was  a  cry  made, 
behold  the  bridegroom  cometh  ;  go  ye  out  to  meet  him.  Then  all  those 
virgins  arose,  and  trimmed  their  lamps.  And  the  foolish  said  unto  the 
wise,  Give  us  of  your  oil ;  for  our  lamps  are  gone  out.  But  the  wise  an- 
swered, saying.  Not  so  ;  lest  there  be  not  enough  for  us  and  you :  but  go  ye 
rather  to  them  that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves.  And  while  they  went  to 
buy,  the  bridegroom  came ;  and  they  that  were  ready  went  in  with  him  to 
the  maiTiage :  and  the  door  was  shut.  Afterward  came  also  the  other 
virgins,  saying.  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us.  But  he  answered  and  said.  Verily 
I  say  unto  you,  I  know  you  not.  "Watch  therefore  ;  for  ye  know  neither 
the  day  nor  the  hour  wherein  the  Son  of  Man  cometh." 

The  point  of  this  ))eaiitiful,  yet  awful  parable,  lies 
in  the  two  expressions  :  "  Took  their  lamps,  and  took 
no  oil  with  them ; "  "  And  the  door  was  shut."  There  are 
incidental  analogies  in  many  sf)ecific  features  of  the 
parable  ;  but  only  one  can  be  fully  carried  out.     There 

*  This  subject,  and  the  handling  of  it,  so  closely  resemble  those  of  the 
30th  Lecture,  that  one  of  them  would  have  been  omitted  from  the  course, 
Dut  for  an  aversion  to  leave  out  either  of  these  parables. 


492  LECTURE    XXXII. 

is  an  incidental  allusion  to  Christ's  relation  to  the 
Church,  which  is  constantly  compared  to  marriage. 
There  is  an  incidental  allusion  to  the  comparison  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  oil.  But  this  is  not  prominent  in  the 
parable. 

Among  oriental  nations,  and  even  the  Greeks  and 
Komans,  the  custom  prevailed,  of  having  the  bride- 
groom at  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  conduct  the  bride 
from  her  father's  dwelling,  where  the  marriage  cere- 
mony had  been  performed,  to  his  own  house.  To  add 
to  the  brilliancy  and  joyfulness  of  the  scene,  he  invited 
his  young  female  friends  and  relations  to  grace  this  pro- 
cession. Adorned  in  robes  suitable  to  the  occasion, 
they  took  lamps  or  torches,  and  waited  together  at  a 
neighboring  house.  When  the  signal  was  given,  an- 
nouncing the  approach  of  the  bridegroom,  they  issued 
forth  to  congratulate  and  welcome  the  happy  pair. 
They  then  fell  into  the  train,  singing ;  and  thus  ad- 
vanced to  the  bridegroom's  house,  where,  if  he  were 
rich,  a  magnificent  entertainment  awaited  them.*  Ho- 
mer and  Euripides  describe  similar  scenes.  And  mod- 
ern missionaries  report  them  as  still  witnessed  in  India,  f 
Mr.  Ward,  in  fact,  saw  two  striking  exemplifications  of 
this  parable.  The  bridegroom  came  from  a  distance,  and 
the  bride  lived  at  Serampore,  to  which  place  the  bride- 
groom was  to  come  by  water.  After  waiting  two  or  three 
hours,  at  length,  near  midnight,  it  was  announced,  as 
if  in  the  very  words  of  Sacred  Scripture,  "  Behold  ! 
the  bridegroom  cometh  ;  go  ye  out  to  meet  him."  All 
the  persons  employed  now  lighted  their  lamps,  and  ran 
with  them  in  their  hands,  to  fill  up  'their  stations  in  the 

*  Crit.  Bib  ,  1.  150.  f  Dr.  Ward's  India. 


THE   TEN    VIRGINS.  493 

procession.  Some  of  them  had  lost  their  h'ghts  ;  and  it 
was  too  late  to  seek  them.  The  cavalcade  moved  for- 
ward toward  the  house  of  the  bride.  The  company 
then  entered  into  a  large  and  splendidly  illuminated 
area.  Tlie  bridegroom  was  carried  in  the  arms  of  his 
friends,  and  placed  in  a  superb  seat  in  the  midst  of  the 
company.  In  a  few  moments  he  went  into  the  house, 
the  door  of  which  was  immediately  shut,  and  guarded 
by  Sepoys.  I  and  others  expostulated  with  the  door- 
keepers, but  in  vain.  Never  was  I  so  struck  with  our 
Lord's  beautiful  parable,  as  at  this  moment,  when  the 
door  was  shut.* 

The  lamps  were  probably  sucli  torches  as  are  still 
carried  in  one  hand  in  processions  in  the  East,  and  fed 
by  oil  held  in  cans  carried  in  the  other  hand. 

Our  Saviour  then  illustrates  an  aspect  of  his  king- 
dom, by  this  Eastern  usage.  A  company  of  ten  young 
women  awaits  the  coming  of  the  bridegroom.  They 
are  alike  in  dress,  in  having  torches  and  cans.  They 
all  alike  expect  with  interest  the  approach  of  the  joyous 
retinue.  They  wait,  until  weariness  lulls  them  to  sleep. 
They  are  awakened  by  a  cry  which  gives  them  barely 
time  to  seize  their  flambeaus,  trim  them,  supply  them 
with  oil,  and  join  the  procession.  But  at  this  critical 
moment  some  of  their  number  discover  that  they  had 
made  one  fatal  oversight.  Too  carelessly  contenting 
themselves  with  seeming  to  be  ready,  they  found  that 
in  fact  they  were  not  ready.  They  then  looked  in  vain 
to  their  more  prudent  companions,  who  could  not  ex- 
tricate them  from  these  embarrassing  circumstances. 
And  while  they  went  away  to  make  up  their  deficiency 

*  View  of  Hkidods.    v.  2.  p.  29. 


4:94  LECTURE  xxxn. 

by  purchasing  oil,  the  procession  passed  by,  and  passed 
on ;  entered  the  lionse ;  and  the  door  was  shut.  At 
length  they  came,  both  as  invited  guests,  and  as  having 
oil  in  their  vessels.  But  the  door  was  shut^  and  no  man 
could  open  it  but  by  the  permission  of  one  ;  and  he 
would  not  give  it ;  but  simply  replied  to  their  earnest 
entreaty  to  be  admitted  :  "  I  never  knew  you."  This 
was  equivalent  to  saying.  If  you  had  been  my  friends, 
and  had  sufficiently  regarded  my  interests,  you  would 
not  have  suffered  the  procession  to  go  on,  half  illu- 
minated. 

These  were  then  too  late  ;  too  late  in  getting  their 
oil.  When  it  was  wanted,  they  had  none.  "When 
they  had  it,  none  was  wanted.  They  came  too  late  to 
avail  themselves  of  their  invitation.  When  they  came, 
the  door  was  shut.  And  none  could  enter  the  house, 
who  were  not  in  the  procession. 

This  solemn  parable  has  no  reference  to  persecutors 
and  despisers  of  religion,  but  to  serious,  yea,  to  very 
serious  people.  They  are  so  much  like  the  persons  who 
will  enter  heaven,  that  neither  they  nor  others  perceive 
any  difference.  And  the  danger  which  it  is  designed 
to  point  out,  is  this  :  the  careless  decision  of  the  great 
question.  Am  I  a  Christian  ?  The  sleeping  of  these 
virgins  is  not  reproved.  It  does  not  refer  to  the  back- 
sliding of  Christians,  but  to  the  tranquillity  of  men  pro- 
duced by  embracing  the  hope  of  heaven.  Some  get 
that  hope  on  solid  gi'ounds,  and  feel  the  tranquillizing 
effects  of  it.  Others  are  equally  soothed  into  calm  ex- 
pectation of  heaven,  without  a  sufficient  ground  for 
3ucli  hope. 

I  first  inquire,  then, 


THE   TEN    VIRGINS. 


495 


I.  "What  is  an  unfofnded  expectation  of  heaven  ? 
The  vital  cause  of  religion  in  the  liunian  lieart  is 
the  living  Spirit  of  God.  He  that  believeth  that  Jesus 
is  the  Christ,  is  born  of  God.  But  as  that  never  can  be 
determined  b}^  consciousness  in  any  case,  we  must  make 
descriptions  of  true  piety  by  which  every  one  may  test 
himself.  We  look,  then,  for  the  distinctive  features  of 
a  hope  which  is  unfounded,  and  yet  sufficiently  like  a 
well-founded  hope,  to  deceive  a  serious,  well-meaning 
person.  "We  inquire  after  the  hoj)e  of  a  person  who, 
like  the  foolish  virgins,  appears  to  himself  and  others, 
to  be  both  waiting  for  the  bridegroom,  and  prepared 
for  his  coming.  The  evil  lies  in  his  heart,  where  no 
human  eye  but  his  own  can  see  it ;  and  where  he  will 
not  search  earnestly  enough  to  discover  it. 
One  radical  defect  is, 

1.  In  his  views  of  sin.  Wliat  are  right  views  of 
sin  ?  If  you  ask  the  Deist,  he  will  say  :  It  is  the  want 
of  honesty,  patriotism,  honor,  and  manliness.  If  you 
ask  the  man  who  has  never  thought  far  enough  to  form 
any  definite  views  on  religion,  he  may  say :  It  is  mur- 
der, robbery,  and  any  other  gross  offences  against  the 
order  and  peace  of  society.  But  we  ask,  what  does 
God's  Word  say  of  sin  ?  Whatever  that  is,  we  must 
entertain  the  same  view,  or  our  hope  will  deceive  us. 

Tlie  regenerated  person  whom  the  Bible  describes, 
has  discovered  that  in  sin  which  the  world  does  not  see, 
nor  the  most  serious  who  remain  satisfied  with  any 
thing  short  of  a  radical  change.  He  has  discovered 
its  radical  princij)le  to  be  selfishness.  Some  persons 
are  shocked  at  their  own  immoralities  ;  some  are  grieved 
at  their  own  want  of  religious  sensibility  and  earnest- 
ness.    But  the  man  who  will  meet  Christ  in  peace  has 


496  LECTCEE    XXXII. 

gone  abundantly  beyond  that.  He  sees  on  one  sidfe 
tlie  law  of  God  as  exemplified  in  the  life  of  Christ 
All  is  perfect,  pnre,  supremely  desirable.  It  is  the 
beauty  of  holiness.  Whoever  obeys  that  law  meets 
every  claim  upon  him,  esteems  and  treats  every  being 
j  ust  as  he  should,  for  he  loves  perfectly.  But  he  who 
disobeys  that  law  sets  himself  above  man  and  God  ; 
his  feelings  and  his  interests  above  those  of  the  uni- 
verse ;  he  has  broken  from  the  great  social  system, 
and,  in  fact,  becomes  its  enemy.  A  very  moral  and 
kind  man  of  the  world  cannot  see  that.  He  is  con- 
scious of  so  much  kind  feeling  and  regard  to  the  public 
welfare,  that  he  does  not  see  how  the  degree  of  selfish- 
ness he  possesses  can  have  so  terrible  a  nature  and  ten- 
dency. Here  then  is  a  turning-point  of  character  and 
destiny.  Repentance  is  the  first  condition  of  salvation. 
But  repentance  is  not  a  dislike  of  one  form  of  sin  and 
hatred  of  another.  It  is  an  intense  oj)j)osition  to  every 
form  of  it,  and  especially  to  that  vital  principle  of  all 
its  forms,  which  consists  in  supreme  complacency  in 
our  own  persons,  and  the  supreme  regard  to  our  ima- 
gined separate  interests.  If  one  makes  a  mistake 
there,  he  can  very  easily  go  along  far  in  an  appear- 
ance of  piety  and  a  hope  of  heaven,  without  having 
really  taken  the  first  step  toward  heaven.  We  are 
not  under  the  law  as  a  system  of  mere -requirement, 
mere  justice,  and  unsympathizing  rigor.  The  penalty 
of  the  law  has  been  remitted ;  the  exactions  of  law 
have  been  suspended.  But  the  whole  object  of  that 
is  to  get  us  to  do  what  the  law  prescribes.  N^othing 
is  altered  but  the  mode  of  bringing  us  to  obey  the  law. 
But,  obey  it  we  must ;  and  the  first  step  toward  obe- 
dience is, — to  discover  the  wrong  of  disobedience  by 


THE   TEN   VIRGINS.  497 

seeing  the  excellence  of  its  requirement.  The  regen* 
erated  man  hates  all  forms  of  selfishness  ;  indiiFerence 
to  God  or  man  ;  hatred  to  either  ;  opj)osition  to  the  in- 
terests of  either,  or  to  the  will  of  God. 

This  leads  me  to  notice  that  true  piety  involves  self • 
hatred.  "  I  abhor  myself,"  is  a  language  which  almost 
all  superficially  converted  persons  shun.  It  is  the  lan- 
guage of  Job,  of  Isaiah,  of  David,  of  Daniel,  of  Paul, 
and  of  godly  men  in  every  age.  They  are  not  worse 
than  other  men  ;  but  they  see  the  evil  of  their  charac- 
ters, as  unregenerate  men  never  see  it.  Some  of  them 
have  deep  convictions  of  sinfulness,  and  some  of  them 
get  a  religious  hope  ;  but  they  do  not  permanently 
abhor  the  evil  which  is  in  themselves.  They  get  to  be 
self-complacent  and  careless.  The  true  penitent  sees 
that  sin  once  pervaded  his  being  ;  and  that  now,  though 
it  is  conquered,  and  the  radical  principle  of  his  char- 
acter is  changed,  yet  he  has  much  sin  dwelling  in  him. 
In  fact  it  negatively  affects  every  thing.  He  does 
nothing  as  it  should  be  done.  Nothing  that  he  does  is 
the  ground  of  his  confidence,  his  hope,  or  his  appeal  to 
God.     Every  thing  has,  in  one  aspect,  to  be  forgiven. 

True  piety  sees  still  farther,  the  true  desert  of  sin  ; 
because  it  believes  God,  that  the  wages  of  sin  is  death, 
eternal  death.  Pride  and  unbelief  secrectly  or  openly 
disputes  with  God  whether  he  ought  to  punish  sin  so 
terribly.  Hence  it  neither  receives  God's  testimony 
concerning  his  own  judicial  character ;  concerning  his 
indignatioxi  against  sin  ;  concerning  the  desert  of  sin  ; 
concerning  the  terrible  danger  of  sinning ;  and  con- 
cerning the  immense  price  of  redemption,  or  the  great- 
ness of  the  sacrifice  required  to  atone  for  it.  There  is 
then  one  other  radical  difference  between  the  super- 


498  LECTURE  xxxn. 

ficial  religionist  and  tlie  sincere  Christian  in  regard  to 
sin  ;  that  is,  its  terrible  power.  Some  men  think  it  is 
the  result  of  circumstances  or  example  ;  or,  if  in  the 
will,  a  few  deep  reflections  will  turn  the  will  at  any  time. 
The  true  Christian  has  discovered  that  man  must  be 
regenerated,  as  John  describes  it  in  the  opening  chapter 
of  his  gospel :  "As  many  as  received  him,  to  them 
gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God  ;  which  were 
born  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of 
the  will  of  man,  but  of  God."  In  other  w^ords,  as 
the  enormous  guilt  of  sin  throws  us  on  the  atoning 
sacrifice  of  Christ,  so  the  power  of  sin  throws  us  on 
tlie  renewing  and  sanctifying  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Directly  implied  in  this  is  another  radical  defect  of  the 
superficial  religionist,  in 

2.  His  views  of  Christ  /  Christ  in  his  person,  and 
Christ  in  his  relations  to  man.  I  will  present  this  dif- 
ference in  some  contrasted  cases.  Judas  was  with 
Christ  during  his  public  ministry.  He  saw  in  him  an 
innocent  man,  a  divine  teacher  ;  but  he  never  gave  up 
the  world,  from  love  to  Christ ;  he  never  consecrated 
himself  to  the  service  of  Christ.  He  professed  to  be  a 
Christian  and  a  minister  of  Christ,  but  he  had  never 
committed  his  immortal  interests  to  his  care.  But 
Peter  loved  him  with  all  his  heart ;  suftered  for  him, 
toiled  for  him,  and  died  for  him,  as  we  are  informed. 
Tlien  take  Saul  of  larsus,  and  Paul  the  apostle.  Saul 
had  learned  what  Christ  did  and  taught.  But  he  was 
then  a  proud,  self-righteous  moralist.  He  cared  nothing 
for  Christ,  his  kingdom  or  his  people.  When  he  be- 
came a  true  Christian,  he  renounced  his  righteousness, 
his  friends,  his  worldly  pros23ects,  his  \\'ill  for  Christ. 
He  glorified  him  as  God,  as  the  only  Redeemer.     He 


TBGE   TEN    VIRGINS.  4:09 

loved  liim  more  tliaii  liis  life,  fearlessly  proclaimed  Ins 
glory,  his  claims  on  every  heart,  his  coming  to  save  his 
friends  and  destroy  his  enemies.  Every  motive  of 
action  he  drew  from  his  Saviour.  Christ  was  with 
him,  as  he  expressed  it,  all  in  all. 

And  tills  involves  another  point  of  contrast : 
3.  The  sujperficial  Christian  fails  in  his  views  of 
duty.     He  may  have,  in  one  sense,  a  high  standard 
of  duty  ;  and  yet  he  utterly  fails  of  acting  by  the  true 
standard.     He  fails  in  aim  and  in  action. 

His  aims  are  two  :  to  get  a  comfortable  hope  for 
himself,  and  to  convince  others  he  is  pious.  Here  is  a 
double  defect  in  his  aims.  It  is  not  piety  he  wants,  but 
so  much  of  the  appearance  of  it  as  to  satisfy  himself  and 
others.  In  times  of  general  apathy,  such  persons  are 
very  little  concerned  about  themselves  ;  for  others  do 
not  rL>quire  the  appearance  of  much  piety,  and  their  own 
consciences  have  sunk  down  to  the  common  level.  And 
therefore,  having  as  much  piety  as  suits  their  purposes, 
they  are  contented.  There  is  oil  in  the  lamp,  no  matter 
about  the  vessel.  The  torch  burns  now ;  no  matter 
about  the  future.  They  have  enough  to  introduce  them 
to  the  company  of  the  other  attendants  on  the  bride- 
groom ;  they  do  not  trouble  themselves  to  inquire 
whether  they  have  enough  to  join  the  procession.  And 
while  their  aim  is  thus  defective,  in  not  seeking  ffrace 
as  well  as  the  appearance  of  it ;  not  wanting  humility 
and  deadness  to  the  world,  faith,  hope,  love  and  zeal ; 
a  strong,  living  faith,  but  a  satisfactory  and  respectable 
appearance  of  piety  ;  they  also  fail,  in  seeking  them- 
selves exclusively.  Neither  Christ,  his  kingdom,  nor 
the  everlasting  welfare  of  men  engage  their  affections 
and  zeal.     Tlieir  whole  religious  life  therefore  is  but  a 


500  LECTURE   XXXII. 

repetition  of  tlieir  former  selfishness,  under  a  religious 
form. 

Then,  of  course,  there  must  he  a  corresponding 
defect  in  their  actions.  The  most  spiritual  parts  of 
religion  they  are  the  least  conversant  with — praise,  for 
instance,  and  thanksgiving, — as  a  personal  act,  alone 
with  God,  they  have  hut  little  to  do  with.  They  have 
not  the  heart  for  it ;  and  then  it  can  he  omitted  without 
much  trouhling  the  conscience.  The  earnest  study  of 
the  Scriptures,  with  deep  reflection  ;  drinking  from  the 
fountain  of  living  waters  ;  listening  affectionately  to 
the  voice  of  their  Shepherd ;  reverently  to  the  voice 
of  their  God  ;  this  they  fail  in.  So  too  in  prayer. 
Prayer  as  a  form  they  may  keep  up  formally ;  but 
communion  with  the  Father  of  their  spirits  they  have 
not.  They  shuffle  off  something  they  call  prayer.  But 
entering  deliberately  and  seriously  into  each  branch  of 
prayer ;  adoration,  confession,  thanksgiving,  supplica- 
tion for  themselves,  or  intercession  for  others  ;  to  all 
that  they  are  strangers.  The  same  might  be  said  of 
self-denying  action  for  Christ  or  men  ;  they  know  noth- 
ing of  that.  Hence  their  religion  has  neither  root  nor 
fruit.  It  is  like  a  tree  cut  down  in  the  forest,  and 
placed  among  other  trees  in  the  garden  to  stand  for  a 
day  like  a  living  tree.  But  there  is  neither  life  nor 
fruit  there. 

The  parable  leads  us  now  to  see, 

II.  What  must  be  the  consequences  of  this  foem 
OF  chaeactek,  and  this  couese  of  action. 

To  show  that,  was  our  Lord's  intention  in  the  par- 
able. He  knew  how  the  heart  is  prone  to  grasp  at 
the  shadow  even  of  salvation,  and  miss  the  substance. 


THE   TEN    VIKGINS.  •  501 

And  he  accordingly  sliows  us  five  wise,  prudent  young 
women,  entering  with  reflection  upon  a  preparation  for 
their  honorable  and  joyful  position  and  part  in  the 
marriage  festivities  of  their  friend.  They  made  a  judi- 
cious calculation  of  all  that  constituted  an  adequate 
preparation.  They  were  to  be  dressed  suitably  ;  to 
provide  torches  ;  to  have  them  supplied  with  wick  and 
oil ;  to  have  them  lighted,  so  that  they  could  fly  imme- 
diately to  their  posts  as  the  summons  was  given.  And 
then  they  must  especially  see  to  it  that  a  surplus  quan- 
tity of  oil  be  provided,  as  there  might  be  much  delay, 
and  the  oil  first  applied  to  the  torches  be  consumed. 
Thus  attired  and  equipped,  they  could  yield  themselves 
up  to  slumber,  for  they  could  fly,  on  a  minute's  warning, 
to  their  stations.  They  were  aroused  by  the  welcome 
signal,  joined  the  procession,  and  shared  the  festivities 
of  the  occasion.  The  others  were  foolish,  wanting  in 
practical  wisdom  ;  which  they  manifested  by  neglect- 
ing the  most  essential  part  of  the  preparation.  And  the 
consequences  were  these  :  the  loss  of  all  the  pains  they 
had  taken  ;  the  disappointmcLt  of  all  their  hopes  ;  the 
realizing  of  more  than  their  worst  fears.  These  are  the 
results  of  a  superficial  piety,  and  a  selfish  hope  of 
heaven. 

1.  The  loss  of  all  their  pains.  Even  superficial  re- 
ligion requires  some  painstaking  ;  and  verily  it  has  its 
reward  in  respect  to  keeping  up  appearances  and  ap- 
peasing the  conscience.  But  just  so  far  as  it  had  any 
more  serious  and  lasting  end  in  view,  it  loses  ever}^ 
thing.  Tliey  want  pardon  of  sin.  It  is  n  )t  to  be  had 
in  the  way  they  worked,  if  they  had  worked  with 
ten  times  as  much  diligence  as  they  exercised.  JN'o 
amount  of  good  works  ever  procured  the  pardon  of  one 


502  LECTURE    XXXII. 

sin,  while  the  simple  crj  of  the  publican  in  a  prayer 
of  seven  words ;  was  successful  for  the  blotting  out  of 
innumerable  transgressions.  These  foolish  women  took 
a  great  deal  of  pains  ;  but  for  one  lack,  it  all  failed  of 
securing  what  they  wanted.  So  far  as  this  class  of  per- 
sons have  any  reference  to  the  approbation  of  God,  they 
utterly  lose  all  they  have  wrought.  So  far  as  eternal 
life  is  in  their  intention,  they  fail  of  it.  The  great, 
the  radical  change  is  what  they  never  intended  to  pass 
through.  But  Jesus  has  said  :  "  Except  a  man  be  born 
of  the  water  and  the  Sj^irit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."     There  is  also, 

2.  A  disappointment  of  all  their  hopes.  What  ex- 
pectations these  young  women  had  formed  !  They  had 
seen  wedding  processions,  and  had  heard  others  describe 
them  with  enthusiasm.  But  they  were  destined  to 
know  nothing  of  all  that  enjoyment  by  experience. 
What  a  moment  of  consternation  was  the  moment  of 
awaking  !  Our  lamps  are  gone,  or  it  may  be  rendered, 
going  out.  They  had  been  invited  to  join  the  proces- 
sion, had  accepted  the  invitation,  had  dressed  for  it,  and 
gone  to  the  j)lace  of  rendezvous,  full  of  hope.  But 
they  awaked  to  see  their  light  going  out  in  smoke  and 
darkness,  their  cans  empty,  their  office  of  torch-bearers 
taken  from  them,  and  themselves  left  in  darkness ! 
Then  for  the  first  time  they  awaked  to  think  what 
was  necessary.  Their  lamps  were  expiring  just  when 
needed  ;  after  they  liad  been  long  burning  ;  and  when 
they  could  not  be  nkindled.  Oh !  that  we  iiad  taken 
oil  in  our  vessels.  That  was  the  one  unavailing  regret 
then  uppermost  in  their  hearts.  But  the  thouglit  and 
the  wish  came  too  late.  Then  they  awaked  to  exertion, 
but  too  late  also.     They  called  on  those  to  help  who 


THE   TEN    VIEGIN8.  603 

could  not  help ;  they  ran  to  the  shops  ;  but  it  Wcas  all 
too  late.  The  same  exertion  put  forth  once  would  have 
saved  all  this.  Oh  what  a  picture  of  the  disappointed 
hopes  which  await  those  who  will  not  go  now  to  the 
root  of  this  great  matter  !  Their  lamps  are  to  go  out 
in  the  damps  of  death.  Then  they  will  discover  the 
infinite  value  of  true  faith  in  Christ ;  of  a  thorough 
heart-religion.  But  all  is  disappointment.  Nothing  is 
as  they  hoped  it  would  be.  They  are  unprepared  to 
go  into  the  marriage  supper  of  the  King ;  and  it  is  too 
late  to  get  ready.  Tliey  had  hoped  to  find  God  lenient, 
and  he  is  stern  ;  to  find  conscience  peaceful,  and  it 
is  just  awakening  to  upbraid  their  folly.  They  had 
imagined  that  they  could  take  the  same  world-pleasing 
standard  through.  But  now  comes  in  its  place  a  very 
difierent  thing — a  God-pleasing  standard.  Then  one 
more  shade  is  added  : 

3.  They  realize  'more  than  the  w(yrst  of  their  fears. 
The  door  was  shut.  If  they  had  any  fears  they  proba- 
bly only  attained  to  this  point :  we  shall  perhaps  have 
to  borrow  some  oil  if  ours  should  fail ;  or,  the  pro- 
cession may  stop  for  us ;  or,  certainly  we  shall,  at  the 
worst,  be  late.  But  our  kind  friend  will  never  sub- 
ject us  to  the  mortification  and  disappointment  of  a  re- 
fusal to  let  us  enter.  Yet  he  did.  Jesus  says  the  door 
was  shut.  They  came  and  knocked,  and  sent  to  the 
bridegroom  their  names.  But  he  had  given  them  up. 
All  the  guests  that  were  to  be  admitted  were  already  in 
their  places.  He  would  have  been  happy  to  have  seen, 
them  in  the  procession  ;  and  then  they  would  have 
been  welcomed  there.  But  now  they  had  arranged 
the  festival  as  if  they  did  not  exist.  Tliey  were  out  in 
external  darkness.     But  it  did  not  dim  one  ray  of  the 


*v 


504  LECTUKE   XXXII. 

light  within,  nor  check  the  flow  of  social  joy.  Thus 
are  many,  who  hoped  to  enter  heaven,  to  find  at  last 
that  the  door  is  shut.  They  had  feared  often,  perhaps, 
that  such  piety  as  theirs  might  need  to  become  a  little 
more  serious  and  earnest  at  least.  But  that  it  would 
cost  them  any  serious  embarrassment  about  entering 
heaven  they  never  dreamed.  What  then  must  be  their 
condition  when  they  find  two  facts  :  they  are  shut  out ; 
and  the  Lord  declares,  in  answer  to  their  agonizing  cry 
for  admittance,  he  never  knew  them  ! 

That  is  the  prospect  our  Lord  intended  to  place 
before  us. 

This  subject  then,  thus  presented  by  him,  should 
have  important  practical  results  in  all  who  do  not 
despise  his  warnings.  It  contains  a  principle  of  very 
grave  import  in  its  relations  even  to  the  higher  interests 
of  the  present  life.  It  utters  this  weighty  maxim, — be 
KEADY.  The  anxiety  of  most  young  men  is  to  get  into 
positions  of  profit  and  honor.  But,  with  many  who 
succeed  in  this  respect,  the  result  is  exactly  portrayed 
in  the  parable.  They  join  the  marriage  procession, 
but  cannot  continue  in  it,  because  they  are  not  pre- 
pared. If  the  time  sj)ent  in  amusement,  in  wishing  for 
elevation,  in  looking  to  others  to  advance  them,  had 
been  emj^loyed  in  making  themselves  ready  for  the  sta- 
tion, how  difi'erent  would  have  been  the  result !  Get 
ready  for  the  station  of  honor,  and  it  will  be  ready  for 
you.  But  the  parable  looks  beyond  the  present  fleet- 
ing life, — ■ 

It  should  lead  us  to  a  thorcmgh  self-examination  in 
regard  to  our  prospects  in  eternity.  The  judgment  of  our 
friends  or  our  enemies  cannot  be  relied  on  here.  Our 
own  opinion  is  of  no  value  if  formed  under  the  delusive 


y 


THE  TEN  vmoms.  506 

influence  of  self-love,  and  the  determination  not  to  make 
any  serious  change  in  our  hearts  or  lives.  We  must 
come,  each  one  of  us,  to  an  impartial  examination  of 
ourselves,  as  if  God  had  laid  on  us  the  charge  of  exam 
ining  another  person,  to  determine  whether  they  should 
be  encom'aged  in  their  hope  of  heaven.  The  moment 
when  these  foolish  virgins  went  to  sleep,  represents  a 
critical  moment  in  every  person's  life  who  entertains 
an  unfounded  expectation  of  heaven.  It  is  the  period 
when,  after  more  or  less  serious  reflection,  perhaps  after 
restoration  from  sickness,  or  the  death  of  a  friend,  or  in 
a  revival  of  religion,  it  matters  not  as  to  the  circum- 
stances, the  whole  destiny  of  eternity  was  seriously 
contemplated.  Some  solemn  purposes  were  formed  ; 
enough,  in  a  word,  was  done  to  produce  composure  of 
spirit  and  hope.  There  was  a  semblance  of  preparation, 
which  satisfied  the  conscience.  Some  persons  reach  that 
point  by  the  sweeping  belief  that  every  body  is  ready 
for  heaven,  and  will  go  in.  That  is  very  soothing  to 
them  who  can  believe  it.  It  must  almost  surely  put 
them  in  the  class  of  the  five  foolish  virgins.  Some  are 
ready,  because  they  are  better  than  some  professors  of 
leligion.  Some  are  ready,  because  they  mean  to  get 
oil  before  the  bridegroom  comes ;  some,  because  they 
once  were  greatly  changed  ;  some,  because  they  are  in 
the  company  of  those  who  are  prepared,  dress  like 
them,  have  torches  and  lamps  like  theirs.  They  attend 
the  same  ordinances,  use  the  same  pious  phrases,  and 
the  same  prayers.  But  none  of  these  is  a  sufficient 
evidence  of  preparation.  To  be  prepared  for  life,  death, 
judgment  and  eternity,  we  must  be  what  the  Word  of 
God  describes  a  Christian  to  be.  Instead  of  being 
separate  from  God  as  the  world  is,  we  must  have  the 
22 


606  LECTURE    XXXII. 

Spirit  of  God  dwelling  in  lis.  Ye  are  the  temple  of 
God.  "  What,"  Paul  exclaims,  "  know  ye  not  that  your 
body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost !  "  And  if  any 
man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his. 
Until  we  know  that  the  Spirit  of  God  has  become 
the  controlling  power  in  our  hearts,  we  hope  care- 
lessly. But  the  scrutiny  to  determine  this  must  be 
directed  to  our  daily  conduct.  In  business,  in  com- 
pany, in  reading,  alone,  are  we  acting  and  speaking 
like  persons  born  of  God,  and  going  to  a  holy  resi- 
dence, where  the  enjoyment  is  derived  from  nothing 
worldly,  but  from  that  to  which  our  most  spiritual  ex- 
ercises here  most  correspond  ?  If  self  is  giving  place  to 
Christ  in  our  hearts,  and  earth  to  heaven,  we  are  ready 
to  meet  the  bridegroom.  K  not,  we  shall  find  our 
lamps  expiring  in  that  solemn  horn-,  and  the  door  shut 
against  us. 


THE   END. 


Lli-«^ 


H*^ 


^^W   f^ 


.  .■  •J- 


iimnnitinHiii 


